


Limbo

by runicmagitek



Category: Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: Alternate Ending, Angst, Dysfunctional Relationships, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Flashbacks, Horror, Hurt/Comfort, Magic Meta, Mild Domestic Violence, Nightmares, On the Run, Past Relationship(s), Post-Canon, Sexual Content, The Succcessor Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2019-06-20 07:55:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 28,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15529665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runicmagitek/pseuds/runicmagitek
Summary: While struggling to survive time compression, Rinoa doesn't find the one who promised to wait for her—she finds the last person she wants to cross paths with.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For [The Successor Challenge 2018](https://thesuccessorchallenge.tumblr.com/)

Cracked, dried earth shifted beneath her. A thick fog enveloped the air, leaving nothing beyond arm’s length visible. Storm clouds circled above like a black veil, blotting out whatever lingered beyond them—the stars, the sun, and anything that existed. Much like the rest of the world. Rinoa didn’t have an answer for any of it; the single truth she held onto was that she _had_ to find him.

That thought alone was the key to surviving time compression. Shared thoughts and memories would link everyone together. Then they would find one another… somehow. The details weren’t clear, but neither was the plan to confront Ultimecia.

_You promised me,_ Rinoa thought, almost tripping over her feet. _If I needed to find you, that you_ _’d be waiting for me. At our place. You’ll be there. I’m coming. I’ll find you._

How long had she been walking? Minutes or a lifetime? Maybe both. Within time compression, it was all the same. Rinoa discarded her worries in favor for the reminders of _why_ she refused to die here.

She imagined Squall standing amidst a flower field, arms crossed and back to her. Petals swirled around them and the sun beamed within a clear, blue sky. And when he finally turned to meet her, they could embrace and confirm this was in fact real. They were alive.

“ _You_ _’re late,_ ” she believed Squall would say.

Rinoa chuckled. “Better late than never.”

The fog shifted and Rinoa halted. It parted to reveal the desert spanning to the horizon. Between that laid a body. Her eyes widened in disbelief.

It wasn’t a flower field, but they could transform it into one if their hearts chose to.

New life breathed into her steps. Rinoa held back a smile as she hurried to the lifeless form. Her heart thumped in time with her necklace beating against her chest. She found him. They could go home now. No need to linger in a nightmare—it was time to wake up.

“I didn’t mean to keep you waiting,” Rinoa murmured, “though I guess it was about time I saved _you_ for a change of—”

Her movement hiccuped. Her eyebrows scrunched together. A tremble fell upon her parted lips.

This… this wasn’t right.

What should have been black leather and furs were instead navy blue linens. A jacket was amiss, revealing scars and bruises scattered across toned arms. No white shirt, no assortment of belts. But not all was lost; a gunblade lied several feet away.

Shuffling closer, Rinoa held her hands together and knelt before the body. Messy, blond hair replaced darker locks. She scanned the form, inhaled, and extended a hand to flip him over.

Lying before her was the ghost of a stubborn memory. She once looked upon him with a sense of admiration. A summer crush and nothing more. There had been a time when she feared for his safety and well-being, but that dissolved when he proved to the world how dangerous he was. It was in his defiance to stand against the sorceress, in his sadistic tactics, in his cold, dead eyes before he handed her over to Adel.

_Why_ _… are you here?_ Rinoa refused to utter.

Not a speck of her longed to share the same air as him. Guilt stung her heart; she didn’t wish suffering or death upon him, either. Rinoa kept one individual in her thoughts throughout her meandering. It wasn’t _him_. It never was going to be _him_.

She clamped a hand over her mouth. _Did we mess this up? Did we not win? No, but we did. I remember_ _… Ultimecia… she was dying. Or decaying._ The next thought brought dread to Rinoa’s entire being. _Or ceasing to exist._

Heartbeats clogged her ears. A foul taste coated her tongue and tempted Rinoa to vomit. Instead, she swallowed it down and examined the premise. Nothing but desert and darkness. No flower fields, no feathers, no blue sky.

No Squall.

_Did you forget?_ She blinked and tears rolled down her face. _Are you lost somewhere? I didn_ _’t stop thinking about you. Not once. I was looking for you. I… maybe I’m not trying hard enough._ Rinoa jumped to standing, brushed her legs off, and sighed. _Maybe this is another illusion, just like everything else._

Rinoa shifted her weight and froze. Her dark eyes twitched about. The fog returned.

_Where am I supposed to go? And how?_ Trembling fingertips clutched the rings dangling from her chain. _Where are you, Squall?_

Shuffling backwards, the heel of her boot thumped into the body she failed to forget. A groan sounded beneath her and Rinoa spun around with a gasp. He stirred and winced. A gloved hand rubbed at the faded scar carved into his face—an exact mirror image of the scar she grew used to.

Cyan eyes flashed open. Neither flinched from the locked stares. She confused his gaze for anger, but the longer they held eye contact, the more she discovered something else lingering there.

Something wistful, something distressing.

Empathy tugged at her heart until she returned to her knees. Rinoa didn’t dare touch him again; she wrapped her arms around herself to ease her nerves. The words caught in her throat, but she forced them out.

“Seifer?” her voice as dead as the world around them.

He blinked. His lips twitched. He spoke, yet Rinoa heard nothing.

 

* * *

 

It had also been dark back then, but an array of lights illuminated the dance floor. Chandeliers and lanterns alike mimicked the vibrancy of the stars scattered across the night sky. Deling City polluted the skies until only the moon was visible. No matter how many nights she spent in Timber, she treated the countless stars with a reverence only a deprived child cherished. She was determined to count all of them, only to fall asleep before reaching four.

But she was awake and _alive_ that evening. Anticipation tingled to her toes, or perhaps that was the spiked punch she snagged upon arrival. Everyone celebrated, but Rinoa had motivation outside of crashing a party.

Seifer bragged about his elite skills and prowess during that elusive summer. They tangled in bedsheets and each other, wearing nothing but stray sunlight and smiles. Beyond the kisses, laughter, and gasps, they talked. For Rinoa, it was complaints of her home situation contrasted with the life she _wanted_ to live. It paled in comparison to the luxury Seifer painted of Balamb Garden. He had his whole life figured out. All that was left was a SeeD test to ace.

“ _No sweat,_ ” he said, that signature grin swept across his face. “ _I_ _’ll be running circles around those amateurs and show them how it’s done._ ”

Rinoa giggled and basked in his confident energy. “ _I wish I could be like that._ ”

He shrugged. “ _You already are_ _—just don_ _’t know it._ ”

“ _Yeah, but I_ _’m not a SeeD, silly!_ ”

“ _Okay, fair enough, but I bet you could walk into Garden and act like you own the joint._ ”

“ _I_ _… don’t know about that._ ”

“ _Yes, you can._ ” He scooped up her chin and gazed into her eyes. “ _I know you can, because I believe in you. Believe in yourself for once, Rin. And when you do, hit me up._ ”

She raised an eyebrow. “ _You mean that?_ ”

“ _Pfff, uh, yeah! It_ _’s not every day I bump into someone who can keep up with me._ ”

Rinoa whacked him. Seifer retaliated. They tumbled and laughed until they forgot why they started in the first place.

Her lips quirked over the recollection. Maybe this wasn’t what Seifer had in mind when he suggested she should contact him if she was ever in the area. Timber was borderline desperate and everyone agreed on the ludicrous, yet only plan proposed—Rinoa’s plan. Seifer would understand. He could help. In more than one way. A thought for later, though—Rinoa needed to secure a contract between Balamb Garden and the Timber Owls first.

Finishing her drink, she checked the thick crowd again. No sign of Seifer. She expected him to meet her upon arrival—he _did_ invite her, after all. How else was she to meet with the headmaster, an arrangement Seifer promised for her?

Rinoa discarded her empty glass and wandered the edges of the dance floor. The evening was more of a drag than she planned. Once more her eyes drifted to the massive glass ceiling to fixate on the starry heavens.

She almost missed it. A blink and it would have been gone. Rinoa gasped—a brilliant shooting star flashed across the night sky and twinkled out of existence as quickly as it manifested. A smile warmed her lips. The rest of the ballroom danced and chattered, utterly oblivious to the marvel which unfolded. With a hum, Rinoa leveled her gaze and discovered she wasn’t the only one who witnessed the miracle.

He, too, stood on the outskirts of the dance floor, drink in hand and not a care for anything except the spectacle they both witnessed. Their eyes met and Rinoa giggled. Perhaps he could entertain her while waiting for Seifer. Upon approaching him, Rinoa forgot Seifer and focused on the man before her. Dark and mysterious, straight out of a silly romance book. But they weren’t in a book and she was determined to have at least one dance with him.

Maybe he’d even smile for her. Maybe he’d even like her.

 

* * *

 

A single drop met her cheek. Another teased her lashes. The third raindrop was lost to her hair, but it was the fourth one which drew her attention to the skies. The distant roll of thunder thrummed through the ground as the descent of rain quickened with an alarming intensity.

“We need to get out of here.”

She refused to acknowledge him. _Why did it have to be you?_

“Rinoa.”

The dour, yet wary tone was accompanied by a hand skimming her arm. Chills raced over her skin. Once more she searched the area. Nothing but darkness and fog. No different from before.

“We can’t stay here.”

A half-hearted chuckled teased her breaths. “Where _is_ here?”

Rinoa clutched one tight fist around her forearm. She allowed his fingers to linger, but she avoided his eyes.

“Hell if I know, but we can’t stay.”

Urgency lined those words, yet Rinoa caught the hint of fear. Had time compression tormented him to the point of forsaking his usual arrogance?

“Rinoa.” This time he tugged at her. “We _need_ to—”

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” she blurted out.

Only the thunder and pitter-patter of rain interrupted the silence.

“Okay, look,” Seifer drew out with a huff, “I don’t blame you for thinking like that. Honestly? I wish I came to alone, but for fuck’s sake, we’re _not_ alone. You… somehow found me, so I guess we’re just stuck together.”

“No, we’re not.”

Seifer heaved out an exasperated sigh and a string of profane mutters. The rabble turned coherent once he raised his voice again. “Yeah, you and me both. I like this as much as you, but we don’t exactly have an option—”

“My option,” Rinoa said, jumping to her feet and jerking her arm out of his grasp, “is to leave you here and find who I’m actually looking for.”

He didn’t object. Not when she turned her back, not when she walked away. When Rinoa’s steps slowed and she struggled to find any semblance of a path amidst the fog, Seifer called out.

“Unless you’re planning to use some of your sorceress hocus pocus, I don’t see you leaving any time soon.”

Spinning on her heels, she dared to face Seifer in the sweep distance. He forced himself to seated, bending one knee to prop an arm on. He dragged a tired hand through his hair and rubbed his eyes. Rinoa held her breath when he set his sights onto her like a hunter narrowing on its prey.

“I’m going to try this again,” he said. “We _need_ to leave.”

Did he know something she didn’t? Was something awry in the time compression? Did they… not return to their world in the present time?

Rinoa wobbled on her heels and clenched her fists. “Seifer, what’s going on?”

To that, he laughed. Rinoa found some peace in that abrupt, yet horrifying sound—at least he hadn’t cracked. “Seriously? You think _I_ know what the hell is going on in this fucked up world? Shit, I don’t know. I’m afraid if I tried to make any more sense of it than I already have, I’d do more damage than good.”

“Is this….” She tucked drenched hair behind her ears, stray locks clinging to her face. “Is this _now_?”

“What do you mean?”

Rinoa rolled her eyes. “Are we still lost in time compression? This… isn’t another illusion meant to torment me, is it?”

Nothing but the rain answered her. Seifer gingerly approached her. The danger in his eyes melted. Rain rolled off his jaw and soaked the layer of clothing he wore. He extended a hand, not close enough to touch.

“This?” he said. “This is real. I’m real, you’re real, all of this is. I’m not here to give you any more nightmares.”

Her eyes twitched between his face and hand. Drawing a deep breath, she eased her fingertips into his palm. Warmth greeted her there, as did a lively pulse along his wrist. Seifer closed his gloved fingers over her and squeezed.

_But if I made it back to now,_ Rinoa struggled to comprehend, _then why didn_ _’t I find Squall? Why are_ you _here?_

“Rinoa,” his voice was a sweet murmur mixed with the rain, “we need to go.”

“But… no, we can’t.” She shook her head. “Not yet. I haven’t found him yet. He… we promised to find each other. He could still be lost out there. I need to find him. Seifer, I can’t leave until—”

She turned, but Seifer’s hold on her snapped Rinoa back into him. Gasping and stumbling, Rinoa glared at him.

“Let me _go_ ,” she snapped.

“We can’t go playing search party now,” he said.

“I _promised_ I would find him—”

“Who the hell are we going to find here?!” He gestured to the endless expanse that was the desert. “We’ll be lucky if we can get out of here alive, even luckier if you can whisk us away with your magic, but it’s just you and me, Rinoa. If we go out looking for somebody— _anybody_ —we’re good as dead.”

A void hollowed her entire soul. Every word in her mind stilled and lumped in her throat. The chill living in her body was thanks to either the rain or the dreadful realization that maybe she was the only one of the group who survived time compression.

All she imagined was that massive flower field and the bright sun and the wind drifting by. He waited for her there—he _promised_. She couldn’t back out now. Not after everything they had been through. And if he wasn’t there waiting for her….

_I need to find him,_ Rinoa repeated to herself. _He needs me. I can_ _’t leave him out there to die._

“Rinoa.”

Those hands sunk into her shoulders. She stared daggers through his chest.

“I can’t leave everyone behind,” she murmured. When he didn’t respond, she continued. “I don’t know where they are. We all agreed to focus on one thing that would bring us back to the present. I… remember all of us facing Ultimecia. We were together, then.” She struggled to bring her gaze to meet Seifer’s. “You haven’t seen any of them?”

He never responded, but the distant gaze in his eyes said enough.

Her shoulders fell. “I just… Squall told me where to find him. He _promised_ me. I don’t know where he is. He could be hurt or scared or lost. And I know you don’t give a shit about him, but I’m not some heartless monster like you. I can’t… I _won_ _’t_ leave him.”

“It’s only us,” Seifer responded after a moment. “We’re here. We’re alive, for now. This is the present.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah.”

Rinoa sighed. Her head fell. She clung to her rings—Squall’s ring.

“I’m not saying we can stop looking,” Seifer said, “but right now? We need to leave.”

“Why?”

“Are you for real?”

She dropped the rings and matched his stare. Rinoa expected rage to live there; instead, she found something more desperate.

“After everything I… what Ultimecia forced me to do?” He scoffed. “I wouldn’t be surprised if both Esthar and Galbadia would start a war over who got the lovely privilege to execute me. And you? You’re still a sorceress, Rinoa.”

“I’ve done nothing wrong.”

“You _exist_. That’s reason enough for some people in this world.”

She squinted. “How are you so sure of that?”

“Because people are fucked up and history loves to repeat itself. Doesn’t matter if you helped put an end to Ultimecia all by yourself—majority of the world would rather you be locked up and frozen just like Adel was.”

_But Squall will find me, just like before,_ was what she wanted to say. Except Squall wasn’t here. She didn’t _know_ where he was. Frantic eyes zipped about in search for anything that wasn’t Seifer.

“Can’t we just—” Her voice cracked. Maybe tears mixed with the rain streaming down her face. Rinoa couldn’t tell anymore. “We can track down Balamb Garden. Maybe they can help and set things straight and—”

“Really? That’s where you want to go?”

“They can help us.”

“The place that’s meant to hunt down sorceresses?”

“This is different.”

“How do you know?”

But she didn’t. And she loathed how he was right.

“We can’t be taking any chances,” Seifer added. “Our best bet is to lay low and wait for this all to blow over.”

“How….” Rinoa closed her eyes and focused on breathing. Every fiber of her being rejected this reality she was spat into. “How long will that take?”

“Fuck if I know, but we have to be in this together.” After a bout of silence, Seifer sighed and leaned in until they were eye level. “You hate me. I get it. Don’t exactly blame you, either. But I can’t do this alone and neither can you.”

“I sure as hell can try,” she grumbled in defiance.

He smirked. “Yeah. I know you will. But might as well try together.” Seifer licked his lips, despite the rain coating them. “I’ll be your knight.”

Rinoa jerked back, eyes wide. “I already _have_ a knight. I don’t need you.”

“And where is your knight?”

Those words sliced into her and twisted. Rinoa trembled. The trepidation of the unknown tempted her to scream. Instead, she swallowed it down and submerged into silence.

“I’ll keep you safe,” Seifer said. “That’s what knights do. And when all of this calms the hell down? When you don’t need me anymore? Or shit, even if you find whatever it is you’re looking for? Fucking kill me for all I care.”

Thunder cracked above as lightning flashed across Seifer’s grim face. Those brilliant eyes of his struck through Rinoa, enough for her to find her voice again

“Together,” she said, faltering through the downpour. “For now.”

“For now.”

Water squeezed past the seams of her boots and dared to soak her feet. Rinoa glanced down; water pooled to their ankles and spanned past the fog and darkness.

“Come on.” Seifer nudged her along before scooping up his gunblade. “We need to get going.”

She stumbled to a walk and peered back to Seifer. “Where are we going?”

“Anywhere but fucking here.”

Seifer jogged by and Rinoa followed his lead. Intermittent lightning strikes brightened their blind journey. A shallow sea met them with every step. All of it faded as Rinoa threaded together what Seifer uttered upon finding him.

“ _What are you doing here?_ ”


	2. Chapter 2

Sheets of water cascaded from the train station’s roof. A rusted gutter collapsed under the weight of the rain. Someone shouted within. The door flew open and a group of people scrambled out. A single, overhead fluorescent light flickered in the now abandoned building.

Footsteps splashed through the turbulent water, paling before the merciless storm that was only overwhelmed by the thunder. Rinoa struggled to keep up; the water mimicked mud more than anything. Seifer maintained an arduous pace and broke it with an abrupt halt. She crashed into him, groaned, and rubbed her shoulder.

“What the hell are you—”

“Shhh!”

Her spine stiffened. Hugging the wall of the station, Seifer inched to the corner to spy upon the situation. Several engineers with shoddy flashlights ran the length of the train and yelled incomprehensible commands. The docked train wheezed to life.

“Looks like we’re not the only ones with the bright idea to skip this joint,” Seifer muttered.

Rinoa peeked past his wide shoulders. “What are we going to do?”

“Well, obviously hitch a ride. Just a matter of knocking out these idiots—”

“What?!”

Raising an eyebrow, Seifer shifted his attention to Rinoa. “Is there a problem?”

She contorted her face. “We’re not killing anyone!”

“Said knock out, not kill. Yeesh.”

“Does it make a difference?”

After a pause, Seifer said, “Okay, _fine_. Do _you_ have a better idea or did you feel like running a marathon in the rain?”

Nothing surfaced. Not at first. “Maybe we could… I don’t know, sneak on?”

“And saunter off when we get to our destination?”

“No, we sneak off, too!”

“Why do I have the feeling you’ve never done a recon mission before?”

“Says the guy who just wants to take out these guys in order to—”

“Oh for the love of—” Seifer spun around to face her. “You know what? Fine. We sneak onto the train. Great idea.” He flailed his arms to accentuate his dry sarcasm. “But when this all goes tits up, I’m leaving it on you to have a back-up plan.”

Rinoa rubbed her arm and averted her eyes. “You don’t need to be an ass about it.”

She imagined he paused to prepare a retaliation. His reply resided in a heavy sigh and nothing else. “Yeah. Sure.”

Fluttering her eyes, Rinoa nearly missed Seifer slipping away. She caught up, tripping over the flooded steps which led to the station platform. With a swift curse, she bumped into Seifer instead of regaining composure. Rather than reprimanding her, Seifer quietly helped Rinoa establish balance.

“Stay close,” was all he told her before resuming his creeping, which led to the station instead of the train.

“So, um….” Rinoa jerked a thumb behind her. “Sneaking onto the train? Yes? No?”

“Looks like those idiots high tailed it out of here,” Seifer said, signaling to the door with his chin. “Might have left some valuables behind.”

“Such as?”

“Such as anything that could be of benefit, because we’ve got two things as far as I’m concerned.” He held up his hand to count each one. “Jack and shit.”

Rinoa rolled her eyes. _Why did I bother asking?_

The front door hung from its hinges, the creak barely audible past the storm. Rinoa hoped for mild reprieve from the rain once inside, though it was wishful thinking. Multiple leaks spewed from the ceiling, the material warping from the perpetual downpour. The single source of flickering light teased Rinoa more with the promise of a headache than clearer vision. In those erratic flashes, she discerned benches and trash bins knocked over. Maps and debris floated by her legs.

What were they to find in this ruin, let alone use?

Seifer booked it to the opposite corner of the rather spacious station while Rinoa waddled through the water. She opted to follow, but something else preoccupied her attention. Thoughts plagued her until her heart raced from the unknown. What splayed before her wasn’t real. Perhaps it was, in the sense she could touch and feel everything, but reality distorted somehow since time compression. Had undoing the process left more holes than necessary? Rinoa longed to recognize her surroundings, whether in the landscapes she memorized or the people she came to love.

A sliver in her mind coaxed Rinoa to run now—away from Seifer. He wasn’t who she was looking for. The thought of Squall lost in time compression tossed Rinoa’s stomach until she bent over. _Please wait for me,_ Rinoa thought, _just for a while longer. I_ _’ll come for you. I promise. Once I have this all figured out… or sort of figured out… then I’ll find you. I… I can’t live in the real world without you. The thought of not having you there… it—_

An earsplitting whistle shot through the station. Rinoa snapped upright and whipped her head about. The shift of metal on metal screeched as lights flashed by like passing cars in the dead of night. Hitching her breath, she sloshed her way to the entrance and hung by the door frame.

Again the whistle cracked through the stormy skies—the train was in motion, albeit sluggish.

“Seifer!” Rinoa darted back in, cursing the rising water impeding her movement. “Seifer, come on, our ride’s leaving and we’re about to—”

The ceiling groaned something terrible. She froze and tilted her head back. Support beams splintered as overhead lights snapped from their wires. Failing to calm her breaths, she eyed the corner Seifer disappeared to.

“Seifer!” she yelled. “We need to get out of here!”

Did he hear her? Would he even take her seriously? Was this a sign to leave without him or rush in to save him from a horrible fate? Regardless of her choice, standing dead center in the station did her no favors.

Then he appeared in the doorway. An overstuffed sack slung over his shoulder, hopefully with the supplies he was so desperate to claim. He screamed back, the sound lost to the horrendous cacophony that was the entire ceiling collapsing on top of them.

Rinoa shrieked. She tossed a hand out. Maybe to grab him. Or something. Anything to cease the tragedy unfolding.

The rumble quieted. Her panicked breaths and pulses blocked her ears. Rinoa’s hand trembled, thrumming with a sensation she did not possess the vocabulary to describe. Seifer’s stiff form mellowed enough for him to inspect what was above. With a hard swallow, Rinoa followed his gaze.

Everything—the rain, the fallen architecture, all of it—froze.

Seemingly nothing held the crumbling ceiling, but after a few blinks, Rinoa noted clear ripples distorting reality at the pressure points, no different from ripples in a still lake at twilight.

A relieved sigh trembled out of Seifer. “It’s okay, Rinoa. I’m coming.”

“What… what is—”

“Don’t think about anything. Don’t move.”

“But—”

A vibration overwhelmed every possible sound. She winced. The intensity built at a rapid rate. Something worse than a headache threatened her.

She tried to whimper his name and swore a silence spell stilled her tongue. But Rinoa had been a victim to the spell before; it never rotted inside like an existential dread longing to choke her to death.

Water splashed towards her. A dexterous hand gripped her waist. She crashed into something—or someone. Rinoa couldn’t tell anymore.

A nose nuzzled into her temple. Hot breath teased her ear. “Hold on, Rinoa. I got you. Just keep it going a little bit more.”

She blinked and the world spun and turned inside out. “Keep… what….”

“Listen to my voice. Focus on that. I’m right here. I’m not going to leave you.”

But that voice pleading to her became an echo; an insistent ringing boomed forward and Rinoa flinched. Her taut hand, still reaching for something unknown to even her, tingled and burned as if submerged in arctic waters.

And then it dropped like a dead weight.

The ringing and vibrations vanished. Seifer’s voice ricocheted through her head. Rinoa hitched her breath and fluttered her eyes. All she focused on was the catastrophe descending behind them as Seifer leaped out the door.

Rinoa plunged into the water. Blackness cloaked her, but she managed to break through the surface. Gasping, she shoved soaked hair out of her face and searched for Seifer. He emerged before anxiety grasped her heart, also gulping down air.

“You okay?” he called out.

What _was_ okay anymore? Every ounce of her being screamed and begged for her to awake from this horrible nightmare. Nothing was okay; everything was wrong from the torrential downpour to the man before her to whatever transpired in the station.

Thus she nodded her head and offered him with, “I’m alive.”

He smirked and perked his eyebrows up. “Yeah,” he said, walking by her with a slight limp, “can’t argue with you on that.”

“You’re not hurt, are you?”

“I’ve seen worse,” he said. “I’ll walk it off.”

Rinoa did her best to keep up. “You shouldn’t be—”

“We can argue about first aid bullshit later, Rinoa. Right now?” A whistle pierced the skies. “We got a train to catch. Either that or we start swimming.”

It had already chugged down the tracks before they left the station; only a few freight containers trailed behind. The water levels hampered their movement, yet they barreled towards the moving train. Seifer reached for one of the railings, catching air on his first few attempts. Once he gripped the metal, he heaved himself up with a labored groan. Seifer whipped out Hyperion with his free hand and smashed the butt of the handle into the locked chain. On the fourth strike, the padlock snapped free and the chain unfurled.

Seifer chucked the damaged chain into the water and pried the cargo door open. He jumped inside, tossed his backpack to his feet, and spun around to find Rinoa.

“Come on!” He extended a hand to her. “Get on! It’s picking up speed!”

Rinoa grunted with each splash slowing her down. The water pooled at her thighs and dared to crawl up further. She flailed for him, though not close enough to brush fingertips. Seifer dropped to his knees and extended further, but he inched away from Rinoa, along with the rest of the train.

_I_ _’m not going to be left out here to drown,_ she thought with clenched teeth. _I need to stay alive; I still need to find Squall._

Bubbles circled around her. A phantom force clutched her feet and elicited a yelp out of Rinoa. The water rose and enveloped her as the wind picked up from behind. A wave propelled her forward, faster than the train, and launched her at Seifer.

His wide, bewildered eyes flashed in front of her before she crashed into him, sending him flat on his back. She didn’t dare move, still perplexed by her efforts. A cool tingle tickled her palms and fingertips. Something familiar, yet not.

Rinoa huffed out a sigh. “Made it.”

“If you’re going to pull some sorceress bullshit again,” Seifer grumbled beneath her, “at least give me a heads up.”

She remembered now—a sensation she was accustomed to since Edea relinquished her sorceress status to her.

“Yeah,” she murmured.

Neither of them moved. She closed her eyes and focused on her breaths, each inhale and exhale lengthening, no longer trembling. The beat of a heart thumped in her ear. A warm body shifted beneath her.

“Do you mind?”

Rinoa gasped lightly and jerked upright. “S-sorry.”

Seifer propped himself up to seated once Rinoa scooted to the side. He ran a hand through his damp hair, rolled his shoulders several times, and surveyed the space. “Might as well get comfortable. Going to be a bit of a ride, I’d imagine.”

“Yeah,” she agreed with a nod.

While Seifer shuffled through the contents of the backpack, Rinoa steadied herself on her feet to walk around. Lightning illuminated the cargo container in spurts, enough to reveal their surroundings. Without all the palettes stuffed with freight shipments, maybe it would have been a spacious area. Instead, little was offered by means of comfort. Cold metal rocked with the movement of the train, more dirty than sterile, but it was free from the rain and watchful eyes.

Rinoa rubbed her arm as the container swayed on the tracks. Her pulse calmed to a steady thrum. While her eyes adjusted to the shadows, a cold chill prickled her still soaked skin.

“Here.”

She turned in time to flinch and fumble the item Seifer chucked at her. Aggravation lined her exhale as she bent down to retrieve it. The water bled the ink on the plastic package, but the image of a grilled steak with potatoes and vegetables on the front was enough of a clue.

“Eat whatever you can and rest up,” Seifer offered. “Don’t know when the next time we’ll get a hot meal will be.”

Sadly, the contents were anything but the printed image. Rinoa grimaced, yet bit into the meal replacement bar. The recent nausea subsided, leaving her famished. Seifer held one between his teeth while sorting their supplies. _He must have raided a survival and first aid kit,_ Rinoa mused while discerning each object: cordage, a pocket utility knife, bandages, an assortment of medications, a flashlight, flares, matches, a compass, two water bottles, a blanket, and several other items she couldn’t identify. He chucked her the blanket and this time, she was prepared.

“What do you want me to do with this?” Rinoa asked, mouth half-full. The tightly-woven fabric was soaked in some areas and dry in the rest, though big enough for her and another person.

Seifer shrugged, more occupied with fixing the sputtering, water-logged flashlight. “I don’t know. Dry off so you don’t catch a cold? Keep warm after you do that?”

Rinoa sighed and mentally dropped the debate. After wringing her hair out, she shrugged her shoulders, as if to relieve herself of outerwear, only to stare in confusion. _Where_ _’s my duster? My arm warmers?_ She brushed fingertips over herself; all that remained was her black tank top, shorts, and boots.

_Did I lose them back at the station? Did_ _… I even have them outside of time compression?_

“Fucking piece of shit!”

The flashlight slammed into the wall and fell into a corner barricaded by palettes, lost forever. She sighed and shook her head. _Guess it_ _’s the least of my worries now._

Rinoa kicked off her boots and squeezed the water out of her socks as best as possible. Hopefully, they would dry before they reached their destination… wherever that was. Another hopeless breath escaped her lips as she wrapped the blanket around her form. It reeked of mothballs, almost reminiscent of pristine, sterile hospitals. She thought of other scents, instead—ones that pleased and calmed her senses.

She thought of the flower field she promised to meet him in, the wind in her hair and the sun lighting her path.

“For fuck’s sake!”

The childish outburst boiled Rinoa’s blood. Knitting her eyebrows together, she pivoted to lecture Seifer, only to hold her tongue. He smacked a pack against his leg, its gel-like contents seeping out from multiple points. Tossing it elsewhere, Seifer dragged hands down his face.

“So much for an ice pack,” he hissed.

He swiped a roll of elastic bandage and jumped to his feet, albeit with a wince. He favored his left side, clutching his ribs on the right. Rinoa’s hard focus shattered when Seifer curled fingers under his shirt to peel it off.

“Whoa, whoa!” She flailed a free hand and averted her gaze. “What do you think you’re doing?!”

“What do _you_ think I’m doing? Tch. Did you never have any wounded guys in your little rebellion? The hell am I talking about…. You just slapped some chocobo-themed bandages on their boo-boos and kissed it better.”

Her shoulders slid up her neck. “What are you talking about?”

“Geez, I already told you I was trying to walk this shit off and now that I’m done with that, I’m actually trying to fix whatever it is I fucked up. So unless you’re going to help, just fuck off.”

More curses flew past his quick lips, damning every second since she stumbled upon him. As for Rinoa, she fidgeted within her blanket and chewed her lip.

None of this was developing to her liking, but what other choice did she have?

Flicking her dark eyes towards Seifer, she discerned him with what limited lightning flooded the interior. He stripped his top and chuck it haphazardly. Lean muscles lined with scars and bruises flexed as he unraveled the elastic bandage. A fresh, purplish, flagrant welt swelled on his side. It didn’t hinder his movement; hopefully nothing was broken. Or it was and Seifer was too much of a stubborn bastard to either show or admit it.

Halfway through wrapping himself up, he paused and raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“N-nothing, I—”

“Then stop blushing and staring and—”

“I’m _not_ blushing!”

She swore he grinned, albeit briefly. “Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night….”

Seifer shuffled to the container’s wall, one of the few unoccupied patches. He slid own the metal structure and kicked off his boots, all while clinging to his side. Wrinkles riddled his face on and off as he suppressed the urge to emote pain.

The storm rumbled and the train rattled. Rinoa swayed on uneasy feet, lost in her thoughts. In time, she tip-toed around the stolen items splayed across the floor. Seifer leaned his head against a nearby palette, fixating a frustrated stare elsewhere. She knelt beside him and he never acknowledged her presence.

A deep breath flowed through Rinoa. She opened her palms to Seifer and closed her eyes. She recalled how frigid it had been in the group’s trip to Trabia Garden, how isolated she felt when everyone reconnected over lost memories and childhood dreams. She recalled surrendering to the people of Esthar and the chamber they locked her away in, seeping cold gas to freeze her in time. She recalled the Guardian Force Squall summoned to his side and how the frozen fae matched both his wit and prowess.

She longed to hear Squall’s aloof banter once more, only if it meant to know he was alive and nothing else.

Blinking her eyes open, Rinoa met Seifer’s stare. He parted his lips, maybe to question her actions, but opted for silence. Ice encased her hands, the cold emanating from them to wash over Seifer’s wound like frost kissing the world before dawn.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to this,” Seifer murmured.

“What do you mean?”

A chuckle laced his breath. “Your sorceress tricks. Unless you’re still junctioned.”

“No,” Rinoa confirmed. “I tossed away my connections with Siren and Leviathan before facing Ultimecia.” _I didn_ _’t need them anymore, even if I don’t fully understand this._

“Yeah, of course. Been a while since I’ve spoken with Ifrit, too. He was kind of a prick, anyways.”

“No wonder you two got along as long as you did.”

She expected a snarky retort or even a scoff. Neither humored Seifer.

“Magic was always weird,” he said after a moment. “Never took much of a liking to it, but studying and controlling para-magic was required for the SeeD exam, so….” He shrugged. “But this?” He gestured to the magic swirling from her palms. “This will always amaze me. Frighten me, even.”

“How so?”

“All the instructors explained magic in concrete terms. There was only one way to use a fire ability and it needed to be exact or else it never sparked. You know… on top of having the proper stocks and adequate GF equipped.”

“I didn’t take you to be the type who would memorize lectures like that.”

“Hey, I’m not completely useless, okay?” His lips curved for but a moment and so did hers—brief, but at least it existed. “But all that was a science. What you’re doing now… it’s an art.”

“I… really wish I could tell _what_ it was.”

“You think and it happens, yeah?”

“Maybe? I don’t know. It’s… like making a wish—an _honest_ wish. I don’t think anything would happen if you put your gunblade to my throat and demanded me to blow up this train.”

“I’m _not_ going to do that—”

“Geez, it was an example, Seifer.”

He didn’t question her further; Rinoa was grateful for that much. The ice continued to chill the space between them, along with providing a dim, pale blue light. The storm quieted outside, though the slosh of water persisted.

“You didn’t have to do this,” Rinoa said, as startled as Seifer was for breaking the silence first.

“Do _what_?” he asked.

“You hurt yourself because of me. You… didn’t have to do that.”

“Yeah, maybe,” he drew out, “but I’d be a shitty knight if I stood there with my fist up my ass.”

_You_ _’re not my knight,_ was what she wanted to say. Seifer’s response from earlier in regards to that resounded in her head. What was the point in arguing in circles?

“Thank you,” she ended up saying, the words almost lost to the ambiance provided by the train.

He glanced over Rinoa until he found the strength to speak. “Yeah. Don’t worry about it.” He squinted. “Hey, are you doing alright?”

“I’m fine…? Why do you—”

“You got something on your—”

Rinoa flinched away from the hand daring to touch her face. The ice from her hands dissolved into nothing and plummeted the space into darkness. It would be some time before her eyes adjusted again, but Seifer’s distinct, defeated sigh wasn’t lost to her ears.

“Fuck me, sorry for being concerned,” he barked out.

“I-I didn’t know what you were trying to—”

“You got blood dripping from your nose, alright? Just fucking noticed it now.”

She blinked and brought a loose fist below her nose. Two streams of blood dried up on her skin along with fresh droplets. Rinoa rubbed it away, sniffling several times to ensure all was well. _I don_ _’t remember hitting my face against anything,_ she thought. _Hmm_ _… maybe it’s from all the running and the change in humidity._

“Sorry,” she murmured. “Um… thanks for pointing it out.”

Nothing. Only the shift of metal running beneath them.

With a sigh, Rinoa leaned back and peered out the sliding door left ajar from their entrance. What spanned to the horizon was a sea. The train glided across the water, slower than what she was used to. Waves rippled from the movement in its wake until nothing but foam remained.

_I hope the whole world hasn_ _’t flooded,_ she pondered in the shared silence. _I guess Balamb Garden can sail through it and Fisherman_ _’s Horizon would be fine… sort of… but everyone else wouldn’t be prepared for it if this is truly the fate of the world._ She toyed with the rings on her necklace. _I hope you_ _’re okay, Squall. I hope everyone’s okay, wherever they are._

“I wonder if we all got separated,” Rinoa spoke out loud. It didn’t matter if Seifer responded or not; she needed to stop bottling up her thoughts and emotions. “Even though we were together in that final battle, maybe something split us up. Would make sense. But they’re all strong. I know they can make it. I… hope they found someone instead of being alone. Like… I imagine Irvine found Selphie without a problem. Zell probably bumped into Quistis or somebody from Garden. I think he’d at least get lonely and want someone to talk to—”

“Chicken wuss wouldn’t make it two days out in the world on his own.”

Rolling her eyes, she lolled her head to Seifer. “I’ve seen him go through a lot. He’s tougher than you think.”

“I don’t think—I _know_. Idiot couldn’t find his way out of a wet paper bag.”

“But the point is that I hope he made it out alright and doesn’t have to be alone.” _Squall, though_ _… Squall is alone. The idea of it kills me._

“Yeah,” Seifer sighed out.

“I guess… I found you,” she said, grasping at threads to shine a positive light on their experience. “So you’re not alone. Well… maybe Fujin and Raijin would have shown up—”

“I would have been fine on my own.”

“On a technical level, sure. You strike me as the resourceful type, but… there’s a difference between working alone and _being_ alone.”

“And _why_ would I care?”

“To remind yourself you’re still alive?” Rinoa cast her gaze back to the endless water. “That this isn’t an illusion?”

Her feeble lips refused to confess the horrors she experienced in time compression. Every doubt, every fear, every regret tortured her until she begged for it to stop, even if it meant ending her own life. But she had to live—she promised Squall, after all. The brief instance—or was it infinite?—in time compression warped her reality, attempted to make her forget there even was one. Somehow she broke free from it and remembered the life she wished to live. That was the plan, right? How else were they to find their way home?

The thought drew worry upon her face. “How did you find your way out?”

Seifer didn’t answer immediately. “What?”

“Out of time compression? The six of us had a plan to bring us back to the present. Well, hopefully. I guess it worked. But it wasn’t like we announced it to the world and you were by Adel when it happened, so—” She licked her lips and dared to face him. “—how did you get out of it?”

The train jostled. The water rolled away from the tracks outside. Rinoa’s heart pounded in her head.

“We should get some rest,” Seifer suggested. “Don’t know what morning will bring. Better to be prepared than not.”

Rinoa yearned to drag him back into the question, but the glimpse of Seifer, albeit enveloped by shadows, held bleak anguish. And something else. She couldn’t pinpoint it.

Turning away, Seifer leaned into the nearby palette in an attempt to sleep. As for Rinoa, she witnessed the watery world drift by, too distracted by the strange sounds and motions from the train. She longed for a plush bed and clean clothes. And quiet. Oh, anything to stop her head from screaming. She rubbed her eyes, longing for rest, yet never found enough comfort to succumb to it.

She memorized the rhythmic clatter within the train: four, individual metallic sounds. _Clack-a-clack thunk-THUNK._ The water must have muted the noise, or so Rinoa assumed. Four little sounds pestering her awake like flies. It almost bled together into a cacophony of sound, enough to instill nightmares.

_Clack-a-clack thunk-THUNK._

Rinoa bundled further into the blanket to combat the chill. All the while, she searched past the water. For something—anything.

_Clack-a-clack thunk-THUNK._

It all started with a train, in a sense. Funny how that worked out, but Rinoa was aware by then that fate possessed a sick sense of humor.

_Clack-a-clack thunk-THUNK._

 

* * *

 

She hadn’t expected the guy from the dance, but his wide eyes and frigid stance conveyed the mutual sentiment. It didn’t stop Rinoa from grinning and launching herself at him. Was it silly to admit he imbued her daydreams since their spontaneous dance? Hundreds of thoughts burst forward, each one competing for Rinoa’s attention.

_I_ _’m sorry I left you hanging back there._

_I had such a wonderful night with you! I wish it didn_ _’t end so soon._

_I kept looking to the skies for another shooting star_ _… another chance to see you._

Every last one was smothered to death. Squall was nothing short of professional, but the military—or SeeD, more like it—offered little in the way of social skills. Or perhaps it wasn’t that Garden lacked adequate conversation and etiquette classes; maybe he lacked personality, plain and simple. Still, he was the only one of the three she recognized.

“ _Um_ _… where’s Seifer?_ ” she asked, rocking on her feet.

His lips never entertained a damn soul with a smile. “ _Why does it matter?_ ”

“ _Oh, um_ _… I thought… he would be here._ ”

“ _Well_ _…._ ” He folded his leather-clad arms. “ _He isn_ _’t._ ”

End of discussion. No one prodded him further.

Unanswered questions stewed in her mind. Seifer was beyond convinced he’d become a SeeD. He never mentioned his exam when Rinoa finally located him at the inauguration ball. Now that she recalled it, he didn’t wear the issued SeeD uniform like the other graduates. But it was Seifer; he paved his own path and still got the job done. Balamb Garden would recognize and praise those traits, right? Why have a mindless mercenary force when they could have a plethora of individuals with varying expertise?

At least Rinoa wanted to believe that.

The same man she danced with that night also ridiculed her tactics, her leadership, and even her model trains. It was never good enough; it was all beneath him. She clenched her hands and toyed with informing the SeeDs that their contract was terminated. But she saw hope in Zone and Watts’ eyes; they needed this kind of leverage in their plans if they wanted their rebellion to kick off.

So she swallowed her animosity and humored the assumed leader of the group. Oh, humor… did this guy even laugh? Did he know how to? Or was every waking second miserable and he had to drag everyone through the mud with him? Whenever he snapped at her, either to correct her or remind her of how much of an annoyance she was, Rinoa bit back the urge to scream.

Still, there was something she couldn’t ignore. Maybe he was flat-out hot. Maybe she secretly liked having someone around who took charge instead of every responsibility falling on her trembling shoulders. Maybe she wanted to watch him break, just so she could hold his hand and tell him she understood all too well.

But she found it when she least expected it. He finished off the Iguions and Rinoa clung to him like a panicked child hiding behind her parent. She fought back tears as the rest of the city celebrated. Squall looked back at her, those blue eyes reflecting her fear.

“ _Stay beside me,_ ” he said.

His voice… it was like gentle rain in the dead of night. When did he acquire compassion in their brief time together?

A gloved hand clasped over hers. “ _I_ _’ll protect you._ ”

_I don_ _’t need protecting,_ was what Rinoa would have screamed back at him. She learned the hard way when it came to independence, starting with her father and ending with the resistance work in Timber. No one bothered to stand up for Rinoa her entire damn life. Why would now be any different?

But the hostility faded and she squeezed his hand back. Only then did she realize she never wished to leave his side.

 

* * *

 

Rays of sunlight paved a straight line down the freight container and across Rinoa’s face. The light flickered through passing trees, enough to tease her awake. She groaned and peeked through tired, puffy eyes. The train did little to comfort her throughout her slumber, but sheer exhaustion claiming her nonetheless. Rinoa yawned, stretched, and froze.

She was nestled into Seifer, using his shoulder as a pillow.

_Fuck_.

Rinoa recoiled and curled up into herself. There wasn’t much room for them to spread out inside, unless one of them wished to hide in the maze of palettes.

_I was tired,_ Rinoa reasoned to no one. _We both were. That_ _’s all._

Metal screeched on metal. The trees outside slowed. Rinoa rubbed her eyes and peered outside. _Are we here? Wherever here is, anyways._

The shift in the train’s speed was enough to jostle Seifer awake. He groaned and cracked his shoulders before prying his eyes open.

“Hey,” he murmured to Rinoa. “You sleep alright?”

“Yeah,” she said, trying her best not to stare at his shirtless torso, now highlighted by the sun. “As well as I could, all things considered.”

“I hear you.” He found his way onto his feet, peeled off the elastic bandage, and collected his shirt. “Looks like we made it, too.”

Rinoa followed his lead and hunted down her boots. “Where are we, exactly?”

“What, you don’t recognize it?”

“Should I?”

He grimaced. “See for yourself.”

Rinoa sighed, both at his attitude and the notion that her boots didn’t remotely dry overnight. She tugged the black ribbon free from her bicep and used it to contain her frizzy hair into a messy, low bun. All the while, she shuffled to the cracked open door.

The heat of summer hit her like a wall. Birds sang in the endless trees while the setting sun filtered through the branches. Past the forest was a place she called home. Maybe familiar faces awaited her there. Maybe someone would be happy to find her alive.

All of that dulled to a whisper in her mind as she stared at the dead, auburn leaves falling from every branch.


	3. Chapter 3

The train crawled to a standstill. A whistle blared through the skies with a plume of steam. The rain hadn’t touched Timber’s forest; from the autumn hue in the leaves, maybe it never had. What remained was a sweltering heat that yearned for the invigorating rain to return.

“This isn’t right,” Rinoa murmured, leaning into the propped open door of the freight container.

“What’s that?”

She looked over her shoulder. Seifer busied himself with collecting the spilled supplies for the backpack. His blond hair fell in his eyes, no longer the signature slicked-back style she was accustomed to.

“Something’s wrong,” she told him.

“Like what?”

_Where do I even begin?_ “The trees….”

“Yeah?”

Rinoa sighed, arms crossed tight across her body. “They shouldn’t be turning now. Not in this weather.”

Seifer chuckled. Or maybe he scoffed. It made no difference anymore.

“We’re stowaways on a train and _you_ _’re_ worried about the trees.” He stood beside her and inhaled the thick, muggy air. “We have bigger shit to worry about.”

“Such as?”

“Such as no one seeing us slip off this train, let alone recognize us in town.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing—people recognizing us. I have plenty of contacts in Timber. They could help us out, maybe even put us in touch with—”

“Look.” Seifer anchored a heavy hand on her shoulder. “I get it. You want to see your friends or whatever. But this isn’t the time or place to have an ice cream social, alright? We head into town, do our best to go unnoticed while stocking up, then we leave just like we came in—quickly and quietly.”

Why was he reluctant to ask for help? Half the town knew Rinoa, if not more. Of course they would assist her, even if she was accompanied by the former commander of Galbadia’s forces. They would understand—for her sake.

“You don’t need to make this difficult,” she muttered.

“I’m _not_ making this difficult,” Seifer almost snarled. “I’m making sure we stay alive. That’s how this shit works, okay? We’re not here to play nice and make friends. It’s about watching our backs and staying on top of everything. That’s survival.”

“You say it as if Timber is lost to anarchy.”

A deep breath filtered through Seifer. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and pierced her with a stare. “Only one way to find out.”

He jumped out of the cargo container and landed on rich soil. The backpack slung over one shoulder while a blanket bundle rested on the other, masking Hyperion from plain view. After checking both ways, he extended a hand to Rinoa.

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not _that_ helpless,” she said before jumping down without his aid.

“Well, don’t fucking execute me for trying,” he murmured, shifting to brush shoulders.

“W-what are you—”

“We need to stay close, alright? Stick together and all that.”

“Fine, I won’t run off, _dad_.”

“For fuck’s sake, that’s not what—”

“I think I can navigate through the town I’ve more or less called my home. If anything, maybe _you_ should follow my lead for once.”

“Rinoa, we need to lay low—”

“We’re still on the damn tracks, Seifer! Not even in town proper yet! Can you cut the shit and stop acting like the sky’s going to fall on our heads any—”

His glove hand clamped over her mouth. Her back met with a nearby oak tree. A mixture of alarm and rage flashed hot in her eyes, but it didn’t deter Seifer. He stepped into her, pinned her in place, and whispered patient words.

“We need to not draw attention to ourselves,” he said. “Please… I don’t want this to be difficult. And I also would like to avoid knocking you out and tossing you over my shoulder to ensure that, so again, Rinoa… work with me here.”

Her shallow breaths calmed and her shoulders slipped down her neck. Anger still boiled her blood, but she bit her tongue long enough to feign compliance, and thus Seifer freed her.

“Alright,” he breathed out, “we cool now?”

Rinoa nodded, despite her hesitation. “Yeah,” she said above a whisper, “we’re good.”

Those bright eyes of his scanned her before returning a nod in kind. Without further notice, he walked away and along the train tracks. Rinoa caught up, trailing behind while she examined the surrounding forest.

_Why are the trees like this? It should be at least four more months before they lose that rich, green color, never mind go red and orange and die off._

Loose leaves danced above and around them in the humid breeze. Rinoa cast her gaze to her feet; the longer she pondered the enigma, the more flips her stomach performed.

All that shattered when a voice shouted from behind.

Her spine stiffened. She gasped lightly and dared to locate the origin.

One of the engineers looped around the back of the train, now marching towards them.

“Hey!” the man called out. “What do you two think you’re doing down here?!”

Rinoa shuffled to a halt. The uniformed man whipped out a baton with no intention of straying from his path.

“Don’t stop,” Seifer rushed out, “keep moving.”

By the time she registered his command, she spun around and found Seifer sprinting in the opposite direction. Rinoa stood in the middle, equal distance apart from a begrudging ally and potential threat. Eyeing both the men frantically, she lifted her hands with open palms.

“We were taking a hike!” Rinoa tried to convince the engineer. “Got a little lost and—”

A merciless hand latched onto her forearm. She hitched her breath and tugged away to no avail.

“Let me go!” Rinoa demanded.

“This area is off limits! Anyone caught snooping around here is—”

“Didn’t you hear what I said?! We were _not_ snooping!”

The engineer paused, eyes drifting to the freight container with the missing padlock and ajar door.

“Only out hiking, huh?” He scoffed, whipped out a walkie-talkie, and held down a button. “Timber North Station, we have a problem here out by the containers. Requesting assistance from Galbadian patrols.” He paused and eyed Rinoa. Only then did his eyes widen. “Wait… you look familiar. Are you….” Fear paled his entire face. “No, you can’t—”

Blood spurted past his lips. Rinoa winced, several drops splattering her cheek. He blinked and gazed down at the blade jutting out of his stomach. The grip on Rinoa’s arm loosened to paw at the wound. He wheezed out nonsensical blabber, rolled his eyes to the back of his head, and collapsed.

Seifer ripped Hyperion out from the fresh carcass and heaved out an annoyed sigh. Wiping the gunblade clean on the engineer’s uniform, he swiped the walkie-talkie from the ground and spoke into it.

“Cancel request, North Station,” he said with a rather convincing Timber accent. “Was only a bunch of cockatrices.” He flicked at the dial until the proper frequency spewed out Galbadian forces updating their patrol routes. Muting the device, he slipped it into his back pocket, glared at Rinoa, and walked off.

She didn’t dare inspect the dead man at her feet. Ignoring the need to scream, Rinoa forced herself to move, despite the numb weight chained to her body.

“Um….” She rubbed her arm, eyes averted elsewhere. “Shouldn’t we….”

Seifer scooped up the blanket he discarded in the sweep distance and wrapped it around Hyperion once more. He caught her from the corner of his gaze. “What?”

“Isn’t it like, not a good idea to leave a body out in the open like that?”

A tiny scoff hiccuped from him. “And waste our time getting the hell out of here?”

“But someone will find him.”

“Yeah, no shit, so we better make the most with what time we got left.”

A thousand more questions dared to burst forth from Rinoa and she swallowed every last one of them.

Maintaining their brisk pace, they arrived at Timber North Station, where the conductor argued with the depot agent and security over unscheduled docking privileges. They skirted the outer perimeter of the station, free from prying eyes.

“Keep moving,” Seifer murmured as they ducked for cover.

It didn’t stop Rinoa from poking her head up to inspect the commotion. Dozens, if not hundreds, of people littered the railway platform. Some shouted demands of the current state of the trains. In those angered voices, she noted unknown dialects. Perhaps a few were from Fisherman’s Horizon, but the rest was a mystery. Those who didn’t implore security either submitted to tears or silence. All of them, however, carried as much luggage as their two hands could hold, even the children.

“I wonder what’s going on,” Rinoa whispered.

“Fuck if I know or care,” Seifer shot back.

After avoiding North Station, they emerged into Timber itself. Finally, she was home—where she could breathe easy and tread lightly. As she straightened her posture and brushed off her legs out of habit, Rinoa lifted her head and widened her eyes.

Bodies crammed every inch of the streets. While still alive, life sapped those worn souls. Frustration and tears lined the faces she encountered. Children screamed, yearning to return home as parents consoled their little ones with no avail. A stench permeated the once crisp air. Everywhere she turned was panic, fury, and hopelessness.

_What the hell happened here?_

Her feet slowed as she absorbed her surroundings. Fingertips teased her palm. Gasping, Rinoa turned to Seifer and searched those eyes for an answer, yet found nothing. Brushing fingers over his, Rinoa sunk her hand into Seifer’s until they clung to one another, bumped shoulders, and braved the sea of chaos.

The relentless rays of the sunset bathed all of Timber in its orange glow. Rinoa blinked past the blinding light and followed Seifer’s lead. He kept his head down and shoulders slumped. Even when they reached a ticket booth, he didn’t revert back to his arrogant bravado. They waited in the dense queue in silence. If only the rest of the world quieted, too.

“Seifer,” she said, afraid to raise her voice above a whisper, “where—”

“Don’t call me that,” he responded, not turning to meet her. “Not like this.”

She paused, longing to question him, only to discover the answer in the few eyes which strayed their way and lingered.

Rinoa stepped into him, chin perched upon his shoulder, and nuzzled into his ear—for cover, she convinced herself. “Where are we going?”

No immediate answer. She swore his head moved into her, albeit subtle. “Anywhere that’s not here.”

They inched towards the front of the line. Rinoa overheard conversations not by choice, but by default. Jaded attendants repeated to countless folk of no more outbound trains headed westward without further explanation. The board above designated the expected arrivals and departures. By every destination was the same, glowing, red text: _canceled._

Once their turn arrived, Seifer mumbled, “Look away.”

“But… why—”

“Just do it.”

The people previously in front parted the way to the booth and there stood a member of the Forest Bears, skimming over a notebook while furiously scribbling something. She held her breath and recalled late nights pouring over new strategies with the Bears to implement against the military.

And she also recalled the engineer whose eyes sparked to life upon recognizing Rinoa.

Spinning on her heels, she obeyed Seifer and kept her back to the transaction. Hundreds of eyes seemingly struck her in the crowd which awaited their turn. She shuffled into Seifer and to her surprise, he squeezed her hand.

From her vantage point, she tried to watch Seifer. He rubbed his eyes and muttered something while fetching a wallet from his back pocket. Gil stuffed every possible compartment. Rinoa wrinkled her face. _Where did he get all that? Did he_ _… steal some of it back at the previous station?_

He exchanged five, crisp bills for two tickets without argument. He mumbled thanks to the woman and guided Rinoa away from the booth.

“Here.”

A handwritten ticket flashed before her. Rinoa plucked it from Seifer and smoothed it out: a single outbound fare via boat for Winhill Bluffs, scheduled for four o’clock in the afternoon.

She reread the departure hour multiple times.

“We got an hour to kill,” Seifer said while weaving through the crowds. “Docks are on the outskirts of town. Might take us an hour to get there if we don’t rush. Not entirely sure. Still, we should take advantage of this place while we’re still here.”

“We have… an hour?”

“Yeah, that’s what I said.”

“But….”

Seifer pulled off to the side and paused. “What’s up?”

Rinoa pried her sights away from the ticket to lock onto the skies. The sun hovered above the distant ocean with the promise of darkness beyond the horizon.

“What time is it?” she asked, her voice trembling as much as her hands were.

“It was about five ‘til three when I got these. Why?”

The words lodged into her throat. Wide eyes fixated above. Were the clouds even moving?

“Rinoa.”

The screams and cries clogging Timber enveloped her like a vice. She no longer recognized the languages spoken, mistaking the ambiance for a twisted, eldritch rumble.

“Rinoa, stay with me.”

Hands jostled her shoulders until she fluttered her eyes. Catching her breath, she whipped her head to Seifer, who nearly mirrored her frightful expression.

“We got to keep moving,” he pleaded. “Every second we waste is another second against us, alright? We need to stick together and act fast. You good?”

What did that even mean anymore? How could she possibly be good while people stood shoulder to shoulder crying over lost homes and broken lives?

_What the fuck happened to this world?_ Rinoa wished to shriek until her face burned raw.

“Yeah.” The words flowed out like ice—painful and numbing. “I’m good.”

The dread melted when Seifer stepped in and brought a hand to her face. His thumb brushed over her cheek, eyes locked with hers.

“Had something on you,” he said, wiping the specks of blood off on the blanket.

The dulled, dried red flashed images of a dying man before her eyes. Those memories faded, too.

“Thanks,” she offered.

Seifer never replied.

Once on the move again, they kept an eye out for any establishment that was neither overflowing with people nor out of stock. Her stomach rumbled with every restaurant they passed. Each one accumulated a line out the door and up a block along with growing, handwritten placards of what was no longer in supply.

“Still got some meal packs,” Seifer reminded Rinoa. “Should be good enough for five days if we space them out.”

The thought of eating dried, imitation food left her groaning. “That’s five days too many.”

“Hey,” Seifer snapped, “at least we _have_ something.”

She whipped together a retort, but stilled her tongue upon passing another diner turning away starving families.

However, they found haven in a charity shop nestled in the second floor of a complex called The Giving Loon, which stuffed shelves with donations from those who deemed their goods garbage. People flowed through the building, but there was at least room to maneuver around others and space to breathe.

“Could use some new clothes,” Rinoa said as they climbed the stairs and wandered in.

“And whatever knick-knacks we can find.” Seifer already gravitated to the jacket display along the wall. “Yeah, not a bad plan.”

“Yeah,” she echoed, her voice trailing off in reverie. “Not at all.”

While Seifer combed through the racks, Rinoa strayed to approach the stack of discarded magazines in a corner. The issues were at least a decade old, but the information inside still held value. She fingered a copy of Pet Pals, one of her favorites which featured the same breed of dog Angelo was on the front cover. There was a time when she went through the pains of training the pup, fearing she’d be as strict as her father once was under his roof.

Zone suggested giving the magazine a try. “ _What_ _’s the worst that could happen?_ ” he asked back then.

“ _Well, she would hate me forever and think I_ _’m the worst puppy mommy of all time,_ ” Rinoa said with a pout.

“ _I mean_ _… I was going for shitting on the rug or something, but it’s not that bad. You got this, Rinoa. She’ll love you forever._

“ _You_ _… think so?_ ”

“ _Know so!_ ”

Halfway through flipping through the magazine, she paused. Where was Angelo? She didn’t recall bringing her loyal pet to the heart of Ultimecia’s domain, but that meant she entrusted Angelo with someone, right? Was it… somewhere in Esthar? Or had they doubled back to Timber to hand her off to Zone and Watts?

_Wait, no, that_ _’s not right._ Rinoa massaged her temple. _They were on that SeeD ship thing. The white one_ _… right? Why… why can’t I remember?_

She smoothed a hand over the magazine’s cover. Seifer would have scolded her for clinging to memories of a silly pet, let alone a dated magazine. Nonetheless, she hugged the magazine before returning it.

_I_ _’ll find you, girl,_ she thought. _You and everyone else. I simply need to figure out what_ _’s going on first. But it’ll be okay. It has to be. If no one finds me, then I need to find you. All of you._

She inspected the slim selections on the racks. A pair of middle-aged ladies argued over a shawl while their children tossed a stack of ratty t-shirts to the floor. Amidst all of it, Rinoa swiped a white tank top and a blue hoodie. Both were tailored for someone Seifer’s size, but the colors were close to the duster she wore to death. Perhaps a few shades lighter, but that didn’t matter. What mattered were the solid hems and lack of holes. Patches on the sleeves had thinned out from wear and tear, but it would fend off the cold, even if Timber melted from the heat. Maybe where they were going would be frozen. Rinoa didn’t know.

Maybe if she did, the truth would paralyze her further.

After discovering a pair of boots, shorts, and leggings—all two sizes too big for her—Rinoa cradled the items and searched for Seifer. More people circulated into The Giving Loon, more shoulders crashing into hers. Wedging her way through the growing crowd, Rinoa stationed herself by the front counter, where a single, overworked cashier hurried to ring up the swarm of customers. More arguments, more screaming. Rinoa hugged her selections and prayed her tingling nerves would calm.

Nearby was an electronics display. Several kids played with the radios they could never afford. Various voices blipped to life for mere seconds before shifting to a different frequency. Music and debates intermixed until one screamed for attention.

“—Desert Prison Station was lost to torrential downpours recently while—”

Her heart ceased to pulse. Her throat dried up. Every inch of skin prickled to life with goosebumps.

Dropping her selected contents, Rinoa rushed to the electronics to grab a demo radio and searched through the frequencies until that exact voice spoke to her. When it sparked to life, she cranked the volume to max and held her breath.

“—word from D-District Prison. Officials from Deling City claim the storm has yet to subside. They have issued no plans to send rescue teams out into the newly formed ocean, fearing the ships would be lost the same way other ships have disappeared in the ocean anomalies. Experts speculate this, too, is an anomaly, for it mimics the patterns found on the coast of Balamb and in the middle of Fisherman’s Horizon. Contact with Balamb has still not been established, either through radio or by transportation. Ships and trains alike disappear upon reaching a twenty-mile radius from the town. No one has confirmed sources of these missing vessels elsewhere, unlike the Trabia anomaly, where any sentient life appeared in the outskirts of Deling City upon passing through a particular section in a nearby forest. As for Fisherman’s Horizon, the black hole in the ocean continues to grow, according to experts, with anything in a mile radius experiencing oddities from gravity shifts to hallucinations to birds dropping dead from the skies. This continues to be a problem with Estharians seeking refuge from the Lunar Cry. The issued state of emergency cautions travel by sea, in fear of more anomalies forming. While the anomalies in Timber have yet to be life-threatening, we urge listeners to stay in their homes and only leave when necessary. There is no telling when or how these anomalies will evolve in time—”

 

* * *

 

One moment she stumbled over Seifer, smoothed a hand across his face, and whispered words that weren’t her own. The next, she floated in space, with nothing but the stars to comfort her.

Something beeped—an indicator of low oxygen. It didn’t stop her from sucking in air. Tears welled in her eyes and floated away. Those drops splashed against metal rings that drifted into view.

Fury gave her the ring after the funeral. She was too young to comprehend the events which passed, let alone the simple, silver band. It wasn’t a stuffed animal—why was he giving it to her?

“ _It was your mother_ _’s,_ ” he tried to explain.

Rinoa shifted on her feet, fusing with the massive bow stuck in her hair. “ _But_ _… why doesn’t she have it, then, daddy?_ ”

He said nothing more and never did again. It stayed forgotten in a jewelry box shoved in the corner of a dresser. It wasn’t until their conversations morphed into screaming matches that Rinoa unearthed Julia’s wedding ring and kept it close to her heart.

And the other… it wasn’t real. At least not the one she wanted. Rinoa didn’t dare deprive Squall of his favorite ring. Instead, she poked and prodded Zell, one of the few people she could relax around.

“ _I don_ _’t know_ ,” Zell said, rubbing the back of his neck, “ _he might bite my head off or something. That_ _’s like, a really personal thing for him, yeah?_ ”

“ _Maybe?_ ” Rinoa perched both hands on her hips and leaned in. “ _But if he_ _’s going to listen to anyone, it’s going to be you._ ”

“ _Eh_ _… I don’t know about_ that _—_ ”

“ _Besides, he doesn_ _’t listen to me, anyways._ ”

“ _But_ _…in that case, why do you want it?_ ”

She played with the ring on her necklace, wishing there was a second one to fiddle with and soothe her bustling mind. “ _So I can feel less alone when he_ _’s not around._ ”

Zell didn’t investigate further. Maybe he already understood her sentiments. Or he didn’t actually care, much like everyone else, and obeyed to bring an end to her pestering.

But it belonged to her now. That lion ring floated into view, bathed in the limited light from her space suit.

A wry smile adorned her lips. She tried to paw it, to cling it close to her heart, but her helmet blocked the path.

_It_ _’s okay,_ she thought, her breaths slowing down. _He might not be here_ _… but a part of him is. And I’m comfortable with that, even if that’s all this will ever be. At least he will never fully leave my side._

Something bumped into Rinoa. Hitching her breath, she stared past her rings and at the last person she imagined to show up.

Squall eased her anxiety, shared his oxygen, and guided her out of space. But where would they go? There was nowhere to hide if Ultimecia forever lingered in the back of her mind.

They found refuge in an abandoned airship, the exterior fashioned more like an abstract dragon than any vessel she was acquainted with. Together, they fought the obscure monsters inhabiting the place like dust and cobwebs and headed for the cockpit. Hope lied there; the radio reached Esthar along with someone to guide them back to the ground. They didn’t have to stay stranded in space forever.

Rinoa wished they had.

She curled up into his lap and wrapped arms around his neck. She refused to cry. Her fate had been sealed the moment Edea passed her powers onto Rinoa.

“ _I won_ _’t be of any help to you or the others_ ,” Rinoa murmured. “ _What if Ultimecia takes over me again? Even then, I don_ _’t know how to harness my powers. I don’t want to hurt anyone. I—_ ”

“ _Rinoa._ ” Squall embraced her, their foreheads touching. “ _It will be alright._ ”

She shook her head. “ _They_ _’re going to come for me. And they should. I’d be better locked up than—_ ”

“ _Don_ _’t say that._ ”

“ _Then what else am I to say?_ ”

If only there was a way stay in the moment forever. If only they had more than borrowed time.

“ _Squall,_ ” she whispered, running gentle fingertips along his jaw.

He closed a hand over her own. Those gorgeous, blue eyes locked with hers. No words existed to convey what they felt—about the situation, about life.

About each other.

Rinoa eased into his face, lips brushing over his. She felt them part for her and she returned the gesture in kind.

The radio crackled intermittently, the stars glimmered in the endless distance, and the man she once hated kissed her as if nothing else mattered. If it was the final luxury she could indulge in before turning herself over to Esthar, then Rinoa wished to bask in it until she was pried away from Squall.

She memorized the surprising softness to his lips, the nibbles he bestowed upon her, and the subtle coos vibrating through him. His hands caressed her back and combed through her hair. Her heart thrummed through the entirety of her—

_Wait._

_This_ _…._

_No, this isn_ _’t what happened._

Rinoa reined her head back with a gasp. She scanned the cockpit. A shudder overcame her before she drew her knees to her chest, all alone in the pilot’s seat.

_But_ _… he was here. I know he was._

Rinoa stood in the airlock of the Ragnarok, stripping her spacesuit. Tears flowed as she screamed and chucked the helmet across the room.

_Right?_

Squall braced himself against a wall. Rinoa called out for him, yet he never flinched. He slammed his fist into the structure and released a pained cry.

_This is_ _…_.

She floated in space, all alone.

_No, this isn_ _’t…._

Nothing else. Not the moon, not the planets, not the stars.

_Why can_ _’t I remember… what happened?_

A crack formed in her helmet, splintering off into a spider web. The oxygen reserve flashed red. A few more cracks and the glass would shatter.

_Where am_ —

 

* * *

 

Radios levitated off the display table. The walls warped and trembled. Panicked voices rolled through the shop—all but a mere echo of a whisper in her mind.

She clutched her head and shrieked.

Every window exploded. The glass splintered and shot in a million directions. Those shards slowed before Rinoa, tumbling through space like snow until it floated by. The ground quaked. People screamed—maybe directed at her, but Rinoa no longer possessed the ability to tell the difference between that and the sharp ringing in her head.

The world diluted into darkness. A chill numbed her. She couldn’t twitch even her pinkie.

For all she knew, she drifted through space. _Where I belong._

One echo increased in volume. It dared to approach her until it was a bellow.

“Rinoa, _stop_! Snap out of it!”

Something jerked her out of the darkness and back to reality. The arm around her waist nearly knocked her off her feet if it wasn’t for the warm body she crashed into. The chime and vibrations vanished, allowing the chaos to explode in her ears.

She blinked, unsure of her surroundings. Clothes piled at her feet. Broken radios sparked from frayed wires on a table.

“What… what’s happening?” she asked, despair forming on her tongue.

“A damn witch hunt if we don’t get the fuck out of here,” the voice hissed.

Rinoa craned her head back; the roof tore from the foundation to spiral towards the clouds. The glint of metal caught her eye. Seifer brandished Hyperion and squeezed the trigger. The blast was more akin to a shotgun than the revolver she grew accustomed to with Squall. She followed his gaze, hoping to discover what instigated the attack. People stampeded to the only way in and out of the store, bottlenecked by the narrow hallway leading to the stairs. Others braved the story drop and jumped out the windows. Several bodies splayed across the floor, some wearing Galbadian armor and the rest in civilian clothes.

Seifer hugged her tight and stared into her eyes. “Stay with me, Rinoa,” he said. “I’m right here. I’ve got you, but we need to go.”

Her lips quivered as she sought for the correct words to convey her emotions. It all vanished when he latched onto her hand and sprinted toward a broken window.

Soldiers shouted commands. More guns fired. Lightning-fast bullets froze inches from Rinoa, as if hitting an invisible shield around her.

Again the chime filled her ears, again the vibrations numbed her body.

Seifer leaped out the window, dragging her behind. Rinoa barely registered the descent. She blinked and she stared at the clouds. She blinked and she tumbled mid-air like a feather. Seifer floated down, as well, and landed in time to catch Rinoa.

He said something, neither audible nor coherent. Screams rattled through Timber like a swarm of locust. Everyone fled from them. More bullets attempted to strike them down, each one reflecting off a barrier to pierce their assailants.

A hand squeezed her own. And then she ran.

The wind picked up and forced the autumn leaves into a vicious dance; Rinoa swore the forest was on fire from the spectacle alone. It melted away and gave way to buildings and faces she no longer recognized. A voice urged her to keep going. The vibrations flooded her until all sensation ceased to exist—not her breaths, not her pulse, not a damn thing.

Where was she going? Was she wandering the desert again? Everything stilled and silenced around her, yet an unknown force urged her to move forward—simply floating through the brink of unconsciousness.

Somewhere in that dazed darkness was someone repeating her name.

A swift jerk brought her face first to the ground. She skidded across the grass and dirt, wincing and groaning until she lifted her head. Salt marked the air while gulls called out in the distance. The undeniable flow of waves left her heart skipping a beat.

“Rinoa! Come on!”

Seifer extended a hand to her. She blinked and stared at his palm.

“Now’s not the time to be stubborn or scared.” He grabbed her waist and hoisted her onto her feet. “We’re almost there.”

With his hand on the small of her back, Seifer rushed her towards the dock. Only a handful of ships bobbed in the ocean, one of which was accepting passengers.

“Almost there,” he whispered into her ear. “Stay with me. Deep breaths. Don’t forget that. I’m right here.”

Her feet shifted from rich soil to the wooden planks of the dock. It creaked beneath their weight and swayed with the ocean. Rinoa focused on the man inspecting tickets before allowing entry onto the ship. He waved a family on board, turned to those next in line, and froze. Others followed his gaze, pointing and yelling in Rinoa’s direction.

Seifer aimed Hyperion at them. “Out of the way! We’re coming on board!”

“What?!” The man held out his hands. “Who the hell are you?! What is—”

Seifer whipped his gunblade to the side and fired into the ocean. Those awaiting passage cowered, perhaps searching for an opening to escape to; between the end of the dock and Seifer’s assault, there was no sanctuary.

“That is my first and final warning,” he snarled and brought Hyperion back up to level with the dock. “Now let us pass!”

Those who waited patiently for their turn stepped aside. Alarm clouded their wide eyes, some with a hint of rage. Rinoa leaned into Seifer as they approached the man in question.

With Hyperion inches from his target, Seifer fished out his boarding ticket from his back pocket. “Here. Bought them fair and square.”

The reminder perked Rinoa to life. She procured her ticket, as well, and plopped it into the trembling palm of the man before her.

His fingers curled around the tickets. “Please,” he whimpered, “don’t hurt anyone on the ship. It’s already dangerous enough as is on the waters—”

“Not planning on it.” Seifer rested Hyperion upon his shoulder. “You never saw us, got it?”

The man nodded profusely. “Yes, of course! Ship should be… departing any minute.”

Rinoa tilted her head. Was he… crying? Part of her longed to reach out and console him.

Seifer nudged her and broke Rinoa from her thoughts. “Come on. We’re here.”

Shuffling on board, Rinoa rubbed her arm and sighed; she forgot the clothing she picked out for herself back at The Giving Loon. A hoodie would have been nice to shield her from the inevitable, merciless wind. She bit back her whining as she followed Seifer to the upper deck. He approached the railing to spy upon the docks below.

“Fucking taking their time,” he mumbled while people rushed to board the ship.

Rinoa joined his side and scanned over his new, yet used attire. He wore a leather jacket over a grey hoodie with fingerless gloves poking out from the sleeves. A grey beanie covered his head, though a few, blond strands poked out to tease his face. The backpack seemed fatter than it previously was, too. She wrinkled her nose; perhaps none of it was properly purchased.

He perked up an eyebrow. “What?”

“That shop… it… we could have… I—”

“Look, we got here, alright?” His hand rested on her shoulder. “That’s all that matters. We’re still alive.”

Her eyes returned to the stretch of forest. “But they’re still looking for us.”

“Not for long. We’ll be leaving shortly. Don’t sweat it.”

Rinoa lowered her head. “Seifer?”

“Yeah?”

“Did….” She released her hands from the railing to stare at them. Glass shattered in her mind like a broken record in reverse. “Did I hurt anyone? Did I _kill_ anyone?”

He didn’t reply. Not at first.

“No.” His voice was almost lost to the ebb and flow of the ocean.

After several breaths, she nodded and clung onto the railing.

What should have been minutes crawled by like hours. The sun hovered above the ocean, yet never dipped below. Fiery hues set the sky on fire. None of the clouds rolled by.

The thoughts clicked together. Tilting her head, she gazed to the setting sun with a hand up to block the vivid light. “If… the sun is setting, then why is it in the—”

Shouts trickled in from the distance. Seifer perked up. Rinoa whipped around to find a group of Galbadian soldiers sprinting for the docks.

“Shit,” Seifer said under his breath.

A foghorn blared through the ship. It shifted away from the docks, though not as quickly as Rinoa hoped for. The soldiers raised their guns and demanded the ship to cease moving.

“Get to the bow of the ship,” Seifer commanded.

“But—”

He shoved Rinoa away. “Go!”

She ran, ignoring the racing thoughts that seduced her to look back when shots fired and screams mixed with the ambiance of the ocean. She pushed by others huddled together on the ship, perhaps also seeking solitude in a world that wasn’t right. Each step burned through her. Rinoa winced and stumbled into the railing that made up the bow.

Slumped over, she clung to the cold metal and shut her eyes. _I don_ _’t want to be here,_ she thought. _I don_ _’t even know where here is anymore, but I don’t want it. This isn’t the world I know. Nothing about this is right. Did… did something go wrong in time compression? Did we not actually fix it? Did we do more damage than good?_

Pain throbbed in her head. A chill raced up and down her spine; she blamed the biting cold on the ocean, despite the humid heat still lingering. The darkness she submerged herself into twisted and turned. What was once the peaceful roll of waves morphed into a horrific wall of sound.

_I want everything to be okay._

Was that… still gunfire? It was so far away… Rinoa couldn’t tell anymore.

_I want you here, Squall._

That sensation daring to rip her stomach out… was she falling?

_Please, where the hell are you? I_ _’m scared…._

Something pulsed through her like the vibrations of a beating drum—sparse, yet overwhelming. She whimpered and curled into herself further.

“Hey.”

She swallowed down whatever bile wished to bubble forth.

“Hey, Rinoa.”

The hand stroking her head opened her eyes. The chill subsided, as did the headache, but that pulse… it refused to dull.

“You’re bleeding again.”

Dark eyes focused on the flooring beneath her feet. Fresh blood pooled there, each drop splashing no different from a hammer. She blinked and the drops softened to a pitter-patter. A breath trembled in her lungs as she jolted upright.

“Whoa, easy there.”

Rinoa stumbled into sturdy arms. She braced herself against that chest and lifted her chin up to find Seifer. He tore off his beanie to wipe her nose.

She flailed at first. “I don’t want to ruin your—”

“Tough shit, I was only using it to partially hide my scar, anyways. Come on… your nose has been bleeding since the shop. I doubt you want to look like you went through ten boxing rounds the whole way.”

Despite her initial hesitation, Rinoa took his beanie and cleaned her face. The material soaked up blood along with the dried tears still burning her cheeks.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” she asked.

“I was waiting until we were out to sea. Figured you were too terrified. Didn’t want to scare you any more than you already were.”

“I’m fine,” Rinoa said with an exasperated sigh.

She shoved the now bloodied beanie into Seifer’s hands. He blinked at the item, shrugged, and shoved it into his pocket. Several voices crackled from the same pocket—the walkie-talkie, perhaps. The sounds were frantic, though cut out more frequently than not as the ship picked up momentum.

“What….” She tucked stray hair behind her ears. “What happened back there?” Nothing. “Seifer? What—”

“It’s fine, alright?”

Her brows furrowed. Rinoa turned in hopes to find the shore. “But—”

“Rinoa.” He latched onto her shoulders and pinned her in place. “It’s _fine_.”

A moment of silence passed before the tension in her shoulders slipped away. “No one on the ship is going to hurt us?”

“No.”

“But what if—”

“I’ll hurt them before they ever hurt you.”

Her heart skipped a beat.

“It’s alright, Rinoa.”

She focused on the sea past Seifer. “But are we _really_ safe?”

“What do you mean?”

“The ocean… I heard a broadcaster… back in the shop…. There are these anomalies, I think, everywhere in the water. People have died traveling by boat, but here we are.” Silence again. “Are we going to die out here?”

“No.”

Rinoa fashioned her stare like daggers to eviscerate him. “How do _you_ know?!”

His eyes mirrored the ocean itself—vast, yet empty. “Because we got _you_ on board.”

She parted her lips to further question him, only to mentally admit defeat. Rinoa pivoted away and leaned into the bow. The cool breeze prickled her exposed skin until she shuddered. Something heavy thumped onto her shoulders.

“Here.”

Fluttering her eyes, Rinoa inspected the leather jacket draped over her. “Aren’t you cold, though?”

Seifer folded his arms upon the railing. The wind played with his hair as he gazed past the stilled sun. “Not as cold as you are.”

Rinoa slipped her arms through the sleeves to wear properly. While it was a new, yet worn addition to his wardrobe, it almost smelled like him. Almost.

She redid the tie to her bun and brought her attention to Seifer. “So… where are we going?”

“Far the fuck away from here.”

“Yeah, but _where_?”

His head turned slightly away from Rinoa. “Where no one will find us.”

That could have been anywhere. At least putting an ocean between them and the world was a bit logical. If no one dared to travel by sea, then would anyone make such a risk? But who would want to find them to begin with? Didn’t they want others to find them? Squall and the rest of the gang were somewhere. What if they were caught in the chaos caused by the anomalies? What if they fell into one of the voids or drowned in the endless rain?

_What if_ _—_

Her eyes widened. Her stomach flipped upside-down. Her heart vaulted into her throat and dared to choke her.

“Seifer?” she tried to speak above a whisper.

He tilted his head enough to flick a single eye in her direction.

“How… how long have we been on the run?”

“Since the other day,” he said.

“No, I mean… are you sure?”

“Why wouldn’t I be sure?”

“I keep thinking and… how _long_ has it been? How long have we been doing this?”

Nothing but the sound of the ocean permeated the space between them. Seifer held her stare for some time and eventually turned away.

“Long enough,” he murmured and nothing more.


	4. Chapter 4

The lilies gradually bloomed. Rinoa dropped to her knees and held the white blossoms. Endless fields with myriad flowers rolled through her mind. It was all it took to summon the magic. Her palms prickled until water trickled from her fingertips to moisten the soil. Once done, she sat back on her heels and scanned over the extensive garden—a sandbox for her magic, but above all, a distraction to pass the time.

What else was she to do the prior month since they arrived?

Rinoa expected the ship to sink halfway out to sea, but not so much as a storm interrupted the voyage. In time, the ship docked with a port smaller than the one by Timber. Memories of her brief time there sent chills up her spine.

No one questioned her or Seifer as they departed the ship. Maybe all the passengers and crew were terrified of what transpired, fearing if they uttered a word, then the magic which coursed through Rinoa would rip them apart. Or perhaps with the fortunate turn of events, they opted to view them as a good luck charm for the elusive ride through the perilous waters. Whatever the case, Rinoa tried not to dwell on the uncanny circumstances.

“Won’t do anyone any good,” Seifer had reminded her then.

Nothing but green plains met them as they walked down a dirt path. The dock master warned them of vicious beasts roaming the wild, yet not one interrupted their travels. Anxiety brought Rinoa’s gaze above; she searched for an abyss replacing the sun or birds flying backwards or the skies bleeding an awful color. All was well—all was _normal_.

“Where are we going?” she had asked Seifer.

“Someplace safe,” was all he said.

They camped out under the stars that night by a massive willow tree. Seifer urged her to rest, but sleep never comforted Rinoa. She curled up by the makeshift fireplace and stared at the embers fading out of existence. Every subtle noise in nature plucked her nerves until she tried to procure a sleep spell to knock herself out. Nothing worked, much to her dismay.

By afternoon the following day, they found a village along the path by the name of Aeridal. She convinced herself they would trek on and ignore the civilization, but Seifer veered towards the settlement and gestured for her to follow.

It was a quaint village, something out of a children’s book—more like a stepping stone on a jaded path than a worthy name to highlight on a map. While the masonry and woodwork of the buildings were dated by several decades, it stood and persisted.

They had their first warm meal in almost a week at a local diner—if not _the_ only diner. Seifer, surprisingly enough, struck up amicable conversation with those interested in the weary travelers who stumbled into the middle of nowhere.

“Don’t see much in the way of travelers these days, let alone tourists,” the man sitting next to them at the counter mentioned. “Think I’ve heard Rimella say something about refugees coming and going, but hell if I know. Docks are more or less ghost towns as of late. Can’t remember the last time a boat left from there. No point in it when they stopped coming back, you know? But boats coming in? That’s rare, too.”

“And here we are,” Seifer said with a crooked smile.

“Right you are! Probably the most excitement we’ve had here all year.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t get ambushed by a cockatrice on the way here,” their waitress chimed in, refilling Seifer’s coffee.

“Was safe travels from the docks to here,” he said, lifting his full cup in thanks.

“You’re lucky,” the man added on. “It’s dangerous outside of town. I wouldn’t go wandering unless you got someone with you who knows how to handle themselves.”

Seifer patted the bundled gunblade leaning against the counter. “I got that covered.”

His newly formed friends flashed a smile. “Smart man!”

“What are you doing?” Rinoa had asked in between scarfing her pot roast down.

He tilted his head. By then, the grin he wore faded to a half-hearted smirk. “Trying to find a place to lay low at.”

Someone mentioned the seamstress several buildings down, who had a place that met Seifer’s expectations—outside of town by a few miles and cheap. The elder woman—Priscilla was her name—fiddled with hemming a pair of pants when they entered the shop, a tiny, antique bell sounding their arrival. She immediately took to Seifer based on appearances alone and rambled on about how he reminded her of her late husband.

“I couldn’t stand to live there anymore, so I moved into Aeridal proper,” she explained, rummaging her desk, “but I never had it in me to sell the place. Figured, well, maybe one day I’ll rent it to the right people. You and your wife seem exactly that.”

Rinoa had been busying herself with inspecting the woven basket full of notions on sale. She jerked her head up and wrinkled her face. “ _What_? We’re not—”

“Oh, dear me!” Priscilla said. “Did I put the chocobo before the carriage?”

“Engaged, actually.”

Rinoa’s face flushed crimson. Wide eyes glared holes through Seifer.

Priscilla lit up. “ _Oh_! I see how it is! Young love with nothing but the world ahead of them, so you ran off to this quiet place in the world to be together. Don’t worry.” She winked. “Your secret is safe with me. Now, where was I…. Oh! Here it is!”

She retrieved a set of sepia photos of both the interior and exterior of the house in question. Seifer flipped through them as she chatted. Rinoa couldn’t stomach inching any closer.

“It _does_ need some work,” Priscilla explained, looking over the pictures with a pair of glasses, “but it shouldn’t be anything someone like yourself can’t handle. A little hard work here, a little loving there—”

“It’s perfect,” Seifer said.

Perfect. That was what they were calling it now. Instead of searching for friends or asking for help or figuring out what the fuck had gone wrong in the world, they were renting a home under the guise of an engaged couple. To lay low, as Seifer insisted. But what were they even waiting for? The world would die before anything remotely got better.

She longed to confront him and scream until she burned her exact sentiments into his head. Instead, Rinoa crossed her arms and bit her tongue. Thus far, any time she interjected, another horror occurred. While Priscilla was still a stranger, Rinoa wished her and the shop no harm.

_But I haven_ _’t harmed anyone_ , she reminded her. Seifer said so. And yet the tingle of magic pulsed under her skin intermittently.

The house in question nestled into the edge of a forest, like a cottage a witch called her home from a fairytale. Vines claimed the stone foundation while weeds and tall grass parted way for an uneven cobblestone path to the front door. Inside was no better; dust and cobwebs covered every surface like a blanket. The floors creaked with each step taken. The furnishings were antiques not worth salvaging.

Rinoa stood in the small living room while Seifer inspected the rest with Priscilla. Dust particles floated through the beams of light. Nothing but two reading chairs, a bookshelf, and a coffee table adorned the area. The entire house was but a fraction of the Caraway mansion back in Deling City. Even her living quarters in Timber were more accommodating. With a sigh, she approached a window and forced it open to relieve the space of its stagnant stench. Songbirds greeted her, as did the sublime view of the endless field reaching for the mountains on the horizon. She leaned into the windowsill, eyes fixed on nothing and her mind elsewhere.

“I hate it,” she told Seifer once Priscilla left.

“Well, we need to make the most of it.”

She scoffed. “Why?”

“Would you honestly rather be on the run forever?”

“We don’t need to run—”

“Really? You want to tell that to the people back in Timber?”

Shaking her head, Rinoa dropped her gaze and smoothed her hands over one another. “Fine. So we have a house.”

“We have a house,” he repeated, contrasting her disgusted words with his weary tone.

“And what, dare I ask, do we do now?”

The floors groaned while Seifer approached her. She didn’t dare give him the pleasure of eye contact.

“Lay low,” he said, softly, gently. “Try to blend in. Be grateful we’re alive.”

“Are we, though? Is this even what it means to be alive? Pretending to be people we’re not? Sure, you can talk the talk with the village. You never gave a fuck about anyone’s well-being before, so why start now? Feed them some sugar-coated shit and force it down their throats. This is a game to you, isn’t it? Well, I don’t want to play. This isn’t what I want to do until things _blow over_. I can’t lie to people about who I am or where I’m from or what my hopes and dreams are.”

“I’m not asking you to.”

“Then what are you?! Are you going to lock me up in here so I never go to town and interact with people? How typical... I’ll play the role of some gag-inducing housewife and make sure everything is fine and dandy here while you do whatever the fuck you want—”

“Rinoa—”

“I’m sick of this! I don’t want to do this, Seifer!”

Every window whipped open in the room. And in the kitchen. And all upstairs, if the clatter above was indicative to the action. A violent wind shot through the house and settled down as rapidly as it came. Rinoa held a breath and spun around. Another chill swirled in her palms and the hint of agony subsided in her chest.

All the while, Seifer circled around, bent at the hip until his eyes leveled with hers, and cradled her hands. “I know,” he said. “I get it. I am, too. I don’t want to be stuck in the middle of fucking nowhere with a bunch of geezers and backwater families with bratty kids who know nothing about life outside of the happy bubble they live in. I also don’t want to take a chance as to whether or not someone is going to kill us in our sleep. I want....” He squeezed her hands, the gesture subtle, yet apparent. “I want us to be safe. If that means blending in so we can live to see tomorrow, then so be it. I don’t know how long it will be. I don’t know when things will be okay, if ever. But what I do know is that I don’t want a damn soul laying a finger on you, let alone hurting you, and I will burn this entire world down if that’s what it takes to keep that promise.”

That sentiment blazing in his eyes... had he ever looked at her like that before? Had she failed to notice until now? It brought a skip to her heart and lingered in the back of her head. 

Even as she tended to the flowers weeks later.

This was her life now. Occupying her time until Seifer returned from whatever odd job he signed up for in Aeridal.

At first, she busied herself with cleaning the inside. Seifer helped, too, insisting it wasn’t right to pile household chores onto her alone.

“Guys can clean, too,” was what he grumbled amidst sweeping. “The world might be fucked up, but I didn’t grow up under a sexist rock.”

Together, they made the interior livable. They replaced linens and silverware. They unearthed relics from before their time, only to hide them away; what was the point in mingling with what wasn’t theirs? Priscilla insisted they made it their own, even as renters. Rinoa tried, whether it was thumbing through books she never heard of or toying with the radio that never picked up a signal or experimenting with baking that turned the kitchen into a laboratory. Nothing worked. It wasn’t what her heart yearned to embrace. She needed to be active, to be a voice within a crowd, to make a difference in the world. How was she to accomplish that in a sleepy village off the grid without painting a target on her back?

At least there were the flowers.

It hadn’t been her first choice. Seifer, of all people, suggested the outlet.

“Perhaps you should find something to help focus your magic on,” was what he actually offered.

Rinoa winced. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“I mean—” He sighed and rubbed his eyes. “I know you still don’t understand whatever it is you can do as a sorceress. It’s random and yet… you said if you focus on a feeling or an idea, things just kind of happen, yeah?”

“Sort of.”

“Maybe start with that?”

“But where? I’m not going to the middle of town to let that unfold.”

“That’s probably for the best.”

She fashioned another glare for him. “Do you even _want_ me going to town without you hanging around?”

“That’s not what I meant. You can do whatever you want. I’m not going to put you on a leash. I know better. Still, I’d hate to know you were there alone if shit hit the fan and I couldn’t be there to do something.”

Rinoa looked away. “So I’ll do something here, then.”

“Yeah. That works.” A pause. “Hey, Rin?”

When was the last time he called her that? Back when they first met? When they were stupid kids living for the moment with each other during that one summer? To think that was a couple years ago, not even…. She remembered bringing her eyes back to him, blinded by the setting sun—actually setting in the west—and swearing Seifer regarded her the same way _he_ had when they made their promise.

“If anything does happen,” he said, “and I’m not there and you’re scared… you remember that tree we camped out by when we first got here?”

“The willow tree? Yeah.”

“Go there. I don’t care how silly or serious you think the situation is. Go there and I’ll find you.”

Those words echoed within her as she meandered outside the house. Her thoughts drifted to the flower field, where she was to meet Squall. Was he still there? Waiting for her? Had he given up and moved on? Tears slid down her face as she clutched her rings.

_Where are you?_

The more she thought of the flower field, the more the weeds and vines died out. The soil tilled for her and brought forth the promise of sprouts overnight. Every day she sat outside to stare blankly at the skies while Seifer was absent, the flowers flourished and reached for her.

In that time, Rinoa wove her magic through the ground to produce a vast, eclectic garden. She found brief solace in flora; they were her creations, after all, and required her attention to survive, but their roots kept them in place and they offered no replies in her mindless mutterings to herself.

Even if she tore them from their home to display on a shelf or bring them as a gift to a villager, their days were numbered once severed from their roots.

_Don_ _’t I know that all too well,_ Rinoa mused.

With the garden watered and pruned, she retrieved the sheets billowing on the clothesline nearby. All chores she hadn’t done until she ran away from home to support Timber’s revolutionaries. But there were no maids here and Seifer’s presence diminished with each passing day… and someone had to do it.

She furrowed her brow. Seifer claimed they needed money to replenish their dwindling funds. _What funds?_ she wanted to ask when he first explained his plan of action. The only gil she had seen him handle was back in Timber. Did he seriously carry enough money since before time compression to get them this far? Or had most of it been stolen from the train station back in the desert?

Rinoa quivered and banished the thought. No use in dwelling on memories that no longer mattered.

And yet she did exactly that. How could she forget the torrential downpour and the water crawling up her legs? The radio broadcast in Timber claimed the desert turned into an ocean almost overnight—another anomaly, no different from the rest.

How many were there? Where were they? What caused them to appear? What worried Rinoa more than the appearances of the anomalies was the blissful ignorance everyone in Aeridal basked in.

No one spoke of the outside world. News traveled by the foreign merchants and occasional dock worker who overheard gossip. The radio picked up local frequencies and nothing farther. Television existed as a luxury to those who could afford it; even then, the information passed through the screens were sparse at best. As for the printed word, newspaper stayed local, detailing neighborhood events than the brutalities eviscerating the world.

Rinoa refused to wonder which was worse: the utter chaos consuming Timber or the terrifying calm in Aeridal.

Nudging past the front door with a basket of folded sheets, she stepped into the mudroom, kicked off her boots, emerged into the modest kitchen, and ascended the stairs. The pitched ceiling made for oddly shaped rooms, but there was charm in them. A narrow hallway at the top led to a bathroom, an office, and the only bedroom. She paused in the doorway of the bedroom; he left the window open again.

The breeze danced in the lace curtains. Sunlight flooded in, yet damaged the wooden dresser, bed frame, and nightstands over time. Mounted cross-stitched patterns hung from the dated wallpaper. The place once smelled like forgotten steeping tea, now replaced with something earthier and fresher.

Rinoa settled the basket down and sorted through the linens. With the fitted sheet in hand, she fluffed it out and smoothed it over the bare mattress. Her hands lingered, circling idle patterns as her mind drifted elsewhere.

After showering—more time spent standing beneath the sputter of hot water than actual cleansing—Rinoa retreated to the bedroom their first night in the house. The sheets were stale, the pillows were musty, and the stench was nauseating, but it was a bed—the first instance of mild comfort in some time.

Her muscles tensed upon the sight in said bedroom: Seifer sitting on the edge of the mattress, glimpsing out the open window and into the night.

The creak in the floorboards gave away her entrance. Seifer shifted to her, the moonlight highlighting his crooked smile.

“Can’t complain about the view,” he said.

“What are you doing?” she demanded more so than asked.

He blinked, glanced over the bed, then shrugged. “Waiting for you?”

“Why?”

“So we can go to bed?”

Rinoa relentlessly shook her head. “No no no. I am _not_ sharing a bed with you.”

He parted his lips to object, or at least Rinoa prepared for that. Instead, Seifer sighed and rose to his feet.

“Yeah, of course.” He gestured to the bed. “All yours.”

“Where are you going?”

“I’ll be downstairs.”

“But where are you—”

“You get some rest, okay?”

He squeezed by her in the doorway. They brushed shoulders. His scent briefly enveloped her. He never turned to meet her gaze.

Rinoa spent more time staring at the ceiling than sleeping that night. Come morning, she crept down the stairs and found Seifer passed out in one of the living room chairs.

Every night, she headed to bed while he stayed downstairs. She curled up into herself and stared out the open window. The night’s wind loved to ease in and chill her through the paper-thin sheets and blankets. Sometimes it stirred her awake, sometimes it sobered her from the thoughts depriving her of sleep.

Whenever she did drift off, she wished she hadn’t.

It always started in a flower field. Neither the sun nor moon humored her with light. She stumbled through the dim shadows, running away from the horrors that warped her memories until they shattered. Through her desperate search, she cried quiet tears and pleaded to anyone bothering to listen.

This was where they were supposed to meet. Why wasn’t he here?

Before the flowers decayed and the ground shriveled up, before the horrors found and tormented her, before a thousand lives and a thousand deaths flashed across her, Rinoa jolted awake. Always gasping, always sweating, always alone.

Cold air numbed her. Rinoa hurled herself out of bed to close the blasted window. Or at least she tried.

_Is this damn thing stuck?!_ she wondered. With a defeated sigh, she rubbed her hands to keep warm. Rinoa eyed the empty bed. After a moment, she made up her mind.

Downstairs, she nudged Seifer until he jerked his head upright. He groaned, rubbed his eyes, and focused on her. “Yeah? What?”

“Can you close the window? It’s freezing upstairs.”

Seifer grumbled all the way to said window and forced it shut after a few tries. He mumbled something and shuffled his way for the door.

“Um, Seifer?”

“What now?”

“Could you….” She tucked hair behind her ear and averted her gaze. “You can stay, if you want.”

She encased herself in mental armor in preparation for the backlash. What snarky remark would grace his lips this time?

But nothing ever did. Seifer inched to the other side of the bed and crawled in with his back facing her.

Every night since then, they walked up the stairs together and curled up in bed without so much as a word to the other. In her sleepless moments, she focused on Seifer’s back instead of those toxic thoughts. Half a foot separated them, if that. Close enough to catch his scent, close enough to appreciate the subtle warmth he brought to bed.

It was enough to lull her to sleep.

Nightmares continued to greet her the nights she submerged deep enough into her slumber. Ghosts of memories flooded her until she wished to drown than ever witness them again. They played back in vicious loops, in reverse, and out of order. The images blurred and melted and ripped until Rinoa screamed for help.

Something struck her shoulder and the sensation alone rattled her awake. She hissed in air and winced away. A heavy weight pinned her down.

“Hey, Rinoa.”

Her breaths calmed. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness.

“You okay?”

Seifer propped himself up on his elbow and caressed her shoulder. Even in the shadows, there was no denying the concern stitched about his features.

She lost herself in those eyes.

“Just a nightmare,” she said to convince herself more so than him. “I… it was—”

“It’s alright. Come on.”

He leaned back and beckoned to her with an open arm. She hesitated. Questions swirled within. Rinoa never entertained a single one.

Instead, she curled into Seifer, head nestled upon his chest as his arm embraced her.

She focused on the beat of his heart. She focused on his long inhales and exhales. She focused on the warmth.

Maybe she fell asleep. Maybe she didn’t. It made no difference. Even the nights when the horrors returned, at least she awoke beside him.

And there was the rare occasion she woke not from his nudges, but from his screams. The first time, Rinoa flailed away, not aware that the source of the sound resided in Seifer. Part of her believed he was possessed, but when she gained the courage to shake him free from whatever consumed him, Seifer shot upright with a clenched fist.

Rinoa froze and so did he. Whatever madness riddled him faded. Nothing but the vibrations of her heart boiled in her ears.

“I… I can go,” he uttered after some time.

“Seifer, no.”

She latched onto his arm, dragged him into her. It convinced him to stay. Even when his terrified screams roused her awake again, she was there to bring him back to reality. Just as he had with her. Maybe he fell asleep in those silent embraces. She never asked, not wishing to stir him out of fleeting solace.

Even when she slipped in and out of consciousness, she peeked through heavy lids in hopes to find him still there. She swore at times he stood over her with a blank stare. At times he pinned her down with his hands wrapped around her throat. At times he sat on the edge of the open window and slumped out. At times he stood on a wobbling chair beside the bed. At times he sat at the end of the mattress with his head in his hands.

“Do you ever… dream about it?”

His voice was but an echo, yet he sat in arm’s reach. Rinoa stirred and struggled to keep her eyes open, let alone comprehend his question.

“About what?”

“What happened in time compression.”

Rinoa answered him. She thought she did. Or was it a brief idea in her head, just like everything else.

“She… she found me. I thought she had died, but… no, maybe I found her. But she was there and she chained me down and said she… she told me to….” He lowered his head and lifted empty palms. “My wrists bled. So did my ankles and throat. She didn’t care. It was… punishment. She was disappointed in me. She expected better. And the more she spoke… I swear I still hear her even when I’m awake. That voice… the more I hear it, the more it sounded… it sounded like….”

He looked at her. The horror distorted his face until she couldn’t recognize him.

“Do you… ever hear it?”

“Hear… what?”

“Hear—”

‘ _Yourself.’_

She hissed in air and winced away. A heavy weight pinned her down.

“Hey, Rinoa.”

Her breaths calmed. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness.

“You okay?”

She flung herself over to find Seifer beside her, propped up on an elbow. He awaited her reply and caressed her shoulder.

“I’m… I—” Rinoa brought a hand to her forehead. “We were just… you were—” Tears trickled down her cheeks. Broken laughter spilled out. “I don’t know, anymore. How should I? Does it even matter?”

Past the rambling and the crying, a firm, yet gentle embrace surrounded her. She buried her face in that warmth and screamed. Her eyes burned and her sleep-deprived mind prickled from the stress. Not once did he say anything, whether to judge her or to coax her to think otherwise. Nothing but quiet affection enveloped her.

When her mind ceased to spin and her fears dried up, she melted into Seifer’s arms. A chill ghosted over her, either from the open window or the remnants of her mind she refused to explore. It was enough incentive for him to tighten his hold.

Rinoa lifted her head. Her nose brushed along his cheek. That scent… it reminded her of fallen rain in the middle of summer. She expected something fiery from Seifer, but for all that burned within him, it was quenched by that scent. Rinoa nuzzled further and inhaled. If only it was enough to banish what plagued her mind and soul. Even a distraction would suffice.

Seifer turned into Rinoa, resting his forehead against hers. His eyes regarded her with a sorrow she had never witnessed before. It stilled her heart and breath alike.

He cupped her face and flicked away the residual tears. Fingertips stroked her skin. Rinoa eased into his palm. Nothing struck through the haze she drifted into—not her pending nightmares, not the living horrors in the world, not the banal, mundane life they hid within.

Not the one she had been searching for.

He kissed her, the motions timid, yet curious. And when she parted her lips, he kissed her as if his life depended on it. Rinoa basked in the heat behind every sensation. She arched into him, clung to him, and cooed for him. Finally, her heart raced for something other than terror.

The bed barely accommodated them sleeping like statues, never mind rolling over. It groaned under their shifting weight and desperate motions. The wind poured into the room and did little to cool their burning skin. Pale light illuminated his face and submerged the rest into shadows.

Rinoa reached for that face looming above. Between abrupt breaths and decadent moans, she skimmed fingertips along the scar that carved into his skin. She trailed along his lips, his jawline, his neck, his hair. She longed to memorize every inch of him, every second spent spiraling out of control.

He cradled her as if she would slip through his fingers at any moment. He gazed upon her as if nothing else in the world mattered. He pleasured her as if he already had a thousand times before. He whimpered out her name as if no other sound came as easily.

Another breeze shifted in through the open window. Rinoa stared at the freshly made bed. She clutched her bicep tight and released a breath. It did little to rid the gnawing guilt within. Those nights, she opted to forget what she was living for in favor of forgetting everything else. It wasn’t him; it never was. Maybe it never would be.

Just like she never tried to imagine it was him kissing and fucking her instead.

Her stomach turned again. Goosebumps teased her bare arms. She pried her hand away to instead fixate on the rings she always wore. She reminded herself two rings dangled there every day.

And still she welcomed a supposed stranger to steal her heart.

_That_ _’s not what this is,_ Rinoa mused as she left the room. _I_ _… don’t know what it is. Maybe it doesn’t matter. Keeps morale up, I guess? Or did._ She sighed and reached the bottom of the stairs. _You don_ _’t need to be in love to be intimate. I… we weren’t during that summer. Now’s no different… right?_

Something crunched beneath her feet in the kitchen. More crumbled drywall littered the floor. Rinoa flicked her eyes upward.

A massive dent warped the ceiling with multiple cracks fissuring away from the center.

It had been dusk when it happened. She couldn’t recall what she had been occupied with to save her life, but she did remember the rage. Not just her own, but his, as well.

Once a week, Rinoa made it known of her distaste of their current predicament. Once a week, Seifer sighed and repeated his explanation.

“This is our life now,” he almost spat out. “This is what we have to do to get by.”

“I don’t want it to be my life,” she said, always refusing to meet his gaze.

What started as a civil and polite interaction devolved into vile confrontations. They slung colorful words at each other like throwing knives and explosive magic. Threats and hatred poisoned their tongues. Doors slammed in their wake, but nothing more.

Not until Seifer slammed a fist into the kitchen table and broke the antique in two.

“You think I actually _wanted_ this?!” he bellowed. “You think I was _fine_ with settling for the life I never asked for?! I don’t give half a shit about anyone in that fucking town or this pathetic excuse we’re masquerading as. I hate this!” He launched a chair across the room. It splintered into dozens of pieces upon impact with the wall. Rinoa never flinched. “I hate pretending I care! I hate acting like everything is fine when absolutely nothing is! I hate being so fucking useless in this world!” He punched the wall, rocking a cabinet from its hinges. Glass containers fell freely and shattered across the floor. “Everything can fucking burn. I don’t _care_! Maybe then we can stop acting like we care about the well-being of this world. Maybe you’ll fucking snap out of it for a change! Maybe I can stop making every damn decision and _you_ can contribute for once!”

He barreled towards her, kicking whatever fragments blocked his path. Fire swirled in those once cool eyes. She refused to cower, but as Seifer loomed above to spew venom, Rinoa’s back sunk into the wall.

“What the hell is it going to take?!” he shouted, inches from her face. “Do you know? Do _you_ even care?! Is this just a fucking game to you, now?!”

_Why would it be a game? Why would I not care? Why_ _—_

He punched the open space beside her head. The vibrations quaked through the house.

“I can’t keep doing this, Rinoa! I can’t keep pretending! I can’t do this forever!”

There was a crack in his expression—misery, perhaps, or was it consternation?

“Some days I wish I never found you! Since then, you’ve changed; sometimes I wonder if it’s even still fucking _you_ , anymore! But I _promised_ back then! We _both_ did! So how the fuck am I supposed to be your damn knight if you keep—”

The words froze on his lips. Pale eyes flashed wide before Rinoa. He pawed his throat and wheezed. An invisible force dragged Seifer away and launched him into the ceiling with a deafening reverberation.

Rinoa pushed off from the wall, ignoring the ringing in her ears, the darkness shrouding the kitchen, the stray items spinning around her, the strained pleas for mercy, and the blood cascading from her nostrils.

“Let us get one thing straight,” Rinoa said with a callous, yet smooth composure. “ _I_ never asked you to be my knight. _I_ never made _any_ promise with you. _I_ found you and _you_ insisted I should stay with you. And _I_ have played along with you the whole time. All I ever wanted was to find my friends—to find Squall. _You_ keep insisting that we need to lay low. For what? The world was already on the brink of destruction and _you_ played a great role. I don’t _want_ to be tethered to you. The only person I want by my side isn’t here. If you are truly concerned about my well-being, then perhaps you should do what _I_ want for a change of—”

‘ _You don’t need him.’_

“—because I don’t want to spend another damn second in this—”

‘ _Just kill him.’_

She blinked. Lights flickered. Glass shattered. Seifer choked.

“I… I—”

‘ _It didn’t stop you before.’_

Nails dug into her scalp. Her body tumbled to the debris-covered floor. She squeezed her eyes shut, yet it didn’t block out the horrors.

“Get the fuck out of my head!” she shrieked.

Bulbs exploded. Windows cracked. A pronounced thud met the floor inches away from Rinoa. After a few labored breaths, she peered up. Seifer rolled onto his back, gasping hard for air. He forced himself to seated with an agonized groan. Blood seeped out of cuts and scrapes.

Their eyes met and he flinched.

“Rinoa,” he said, too quiet, too terrified, “stay with me. I… I’m right here—”

She swatted away the hand reaching for her. Whatever animosity boiled in her, towards him or the situation they were stuck in, simply faded.

“Y-yeah,” Seifer coughed up. “I… I’ll take care of this.” He mustered the strength to stand and wobbled to a nearby closet to retrieve a broom. “I’m sorry.” He swept through the kitchen. “I’m sorry.” He paused on and off to slump over and cover his eyes. “I’m… sorry.”

Was he crying? She contemplated asking and opted to leave to lie restless in bed. Now she stood in the kitchen alone, still haunted by what transpired there.

They hadn’t said much to one another since then. What was there to talk about? Would it be another repeat incident? Or worse? Rinoa chose the uncomfortable silence out of fear, out of convenience.

Thankfully, neither Seifer nor the whisper in the shadows of her mind questioned her choice.

Rinoa leaned against the house’s doorway. Nothing but the warmth of summer touched the lush landscape sprawling before her. Not a soul in sight—only the birds chirping, the trees swaying, and the clouds rolling by. Rinoa crossed her arms; it would be some time when Seifer returned. When exactly was unknown. What she did know was the house no longer demanded her attention.

What killed her more than the inaction was the desire to depart from the safety of the house to venture elsewhere.

Seifer expressed his concern of her venturing Aeridal alone, but Rinoa could take care of herself. What harm could an oblivious village even inflict upon her?

She strolled down dirt roads and basked in the sunlight and breeze alike. The walk had never been to her liking, more so when stray pebbles found way into her boots, but time spent stuck in her thoughts never benefited Rinoa. In that time, she prepared various answers for the village folk who were keen to inquire about her life’s story, all of which were carefully crafted lies.

_Like they have anything better to do._

Aeridal peeked out from the horizon and in due time, Rinoa set foot into the village proper. While paltry, the buildings nestled together to cast an illusion of something far grander once immersed. Such trickery neither fooled nor blinded Rinoa, unlike the citizens of Aeridal.

Kids played in the cobblestone streets, halting their activities to stalk Rinoa. They whispered, yet failed to go undetected.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen her before.”

“That’s because she’s the witch who lives by the forest.”

“A witch?! But she looks just like us.”

“Didn’t you know? It’s a disguise so she can pick which one of us to eat next!”

“Oh no! We should do something!”

“That doesn’t sound right. No one’s gone missing lately.”

“Maybe she steals the mice in our homes and eats those.”

“My mommy told me that she has a really pretty garden. Like, there are flowers there that don’t even grow around here!”

“That’s because she’s eating people and burying their bodies underground when she’s—”

“Will you cut it out?! She doesn’t eat people! We would _know_ if people had gone missing.”

Rinoa peered back to her curious followers. They all tripped over their feet to come to a stop.

“Oh no, she found us!” one of them rushed out.

“Quick! Run! Before she eats us next!”

The group sprinted in the opposite direction while yelling cautionary tales at each other. As annoyed as she was with the exaggerations, she couldn’t help but admire the children’s care-free spirits.

“They’ve got quite the imagination, don’t they?”

The woman addressing her was old enough to be her mother. Rinoa recognized her as the postmaster for the courier station in Aeridal. All incoming and outgoing shipments—if any—went through her first. It was a local operation, one that Rinoa imagined wasn’t profitable; nothing past the mountains or ocean ever found its way to the Winhil valley or so she was told. _How typical for a shut-in village,_ she had mused during her first week there.

Seifer accepted multiple tasks for her—Maryl, she believed it was—mostly playing errand boy. Nothing too glamorous, but someone had to deliver letters to neighboring settlements along with the occasional care package exchanged between distant families.

Maryl flashed a grin. “Sai’s out doing the weekly run to the docks in case something’s popped up. Can’t let possible shipments sit out there for any longer than they already have. Don’t think he’ll be back until sundown, but I’ll tell him you came looking for him, Lily!”

The name always startled Rinoa, but she did well to conceal her confusion. It had been Seifer’s idea, after all. No point in taking a chance in someone recognizing their true names, even if everyone in Aeridal lived under a rock. Thus they became Sai and Lily, the two, city-born love birds on the outskirts of the forest in search of a simpler life. How cute.

“I was actually here on my own business,” Rinoa pointed out, “but thank you.”

Maryl perked up, taken aback by her response. “Oh! That’s alright, too! Hey, I heard Silica got some laceleaf and baby’s breath from her cousin recently up in Lakvale. Think she was planning on putting them in the flower boxes by her front windows. You should check it out! They’re really nice!”

“Yeah. I’ll have to do that.”

“And if you walk by the bakery on the way, I think Shelly still has some of that crabapple pie left from this morning. At the very least, walking in to get a whiff of it is good enough! Man, I’m glad I don’t work there. I’d eat everything I make and not earn a single gil!”

Maryl laughed and Rinoa mustered a smile. Maybe the conversation would have entertained her some time ago, back before time compression, back when she could be herself. Now? Little held her interest now.

Despite her suggestions, Maryl rambled about the happenings in Aeridal, all of which hadn’t varied from the prior week or even before that. Another kid scaled a building and another retired man fixed a housewife’s fence and another woman shipped out cookies to a family member in a nearby village and another family held another potluck dinner for all to attend. The insistent chatter made it appear as if Maryl’s task was to inform passers-by of how banal the village was instead of managing the courier system.

Rinoa stood and absorbed the barrage of words, no better than a hollow vessel. Even when other locals shuffled by and greeted them, they weaseled their way into the conversation. The uneventful daily tasks of those people escalated into news. They gasped in amazement over each telling, no matter how repetitious.

“And what about you, Lily?” they always asked her at some point. “What’s new on your end?”

“Have you and Sai made wedding plans yet?”

“Is that garden of yours sprouting anything new?”

“Did you try that recipe my sister gave to you?”

“Have you been over to Shelly’s place? Hear there’s still some crabapple pie left!”

She answered as best as possible. The truth no longer mattered; so long as she maintained some semblance of happiness, it was enough to satiate the curiosity.

Their attention shifted elsewhere, much to Rinoa’s relief. A chocobo made its way towards the small gathering, slowing to a halt. Its rider dismounted, brushing off the thick leathers she wore and met Maryl’s gaze.

“Persei!” Maryl chuckled out. “How many times do I have to tell you not to rush back from Galcrag? I expected you to be back by sundown, not _now_.”

“You’re not going to believe what I got,” she said, still catching her breath from a vigorous ride.

After loosening the saddle pouches, she retrieved the contents held within. Everyone crowded around, wide-eyed and speechless.

“Newspapers?” one of them dared to ask. “These are from Timber, too.”

A chill shot through Rinoa. She inched closer and tried to peer past the tight-knit circle.

“Where did you even get these?” Maryl asked, her voice dropping to a serious note Rinoa never witnessed before. “We haven’t gotten word from the other continents, let alone print material like this, in some time.”

“Romalli gave them to me,” Persei explained. “He said they were also seeing newcomers on their end. They wrapped what they could in newspaper and then exchanged the papers for food and housing.”

Maryl squinted. “Wait, newcomers by the _mountains_?”

“I asked the same thing. Apparently, they stumbled upon Galcrag not too long ago. They fled before some flood claimed more than their homes.”

“What did they do? Swim?”

“Crossed the mountains.”

“Geez,” an older woman said with a shake of her head, “it’s a miracle the monsters up there didn’t kill them.”

“I don’t know if I’d rather have a monster kill me or simply drown,” Maryl mumbled. “I almost forget what it’s like to have monsters around anymore. When was the last time we even saw one? Like a month or so?” She paused and faced Rinoa. “Just about the time you and Sai showed up, isn’t that right, Lily?”

She never answered. She focused on nothing but the smoothed out, aged newspaper in Maryl’s hand. Big, black letters ran across the top: _Balamb Garden Found After Disappearance_. A blurb detailed the location of a now destroyed structure somewhere in the Centra Ruins. It continued onto another page with an interview intact. None of that mattered.

All Rinoa stared at was the publication date.

 

* * *

 

Flowers stretched to eternity with nothing but blue skies radiating through the landscape. Rinoa leaned into a pillar claimed by vines and moss. Angelo nuzzled into her on and off with a subtle whine. _It_ _’s okay, girl,_ was what she wanted to say, but it was far from the truth.

What was to happen now? She already made up her mind. She allowed Esthar to seal her way. Even then, Squall rescued her. Still numb from the almost complete freezing process, she fell from her chamber and he was there to catch her.

And he continued to stay by her side, perched against a pillar opposite her.

“ _You didn_ _’t have to save me,_ ” Rinoa said.

“ _I didn_ _’t have to do a lot of things,_ ” he replied, eyes elsewhere, “ _but I did them, anyways._ ”

“ _You_ _… do know what I am now, right?_ ”

“ _That doesn_ _’t change anything._ ”

“ _And you_ _… you’re the leader of—_ ”

“ _I don_ _’t care._ ”

He whipped around to face her. The cold, tense features she had grown used to melted into something she had never witnessed in Squall before.

“ _None of that matters,_ ” he said. “ _I only care about making sure you_ _’re safe._ ”

Inches remained between them. Those blue eyes almost reflected the skies. She wished to push fallen hair out of his face, but she thought better of the action.

“ _We_ _’re supposed to be enemies,_ ” she tried to reason with herself as much as she did with him.

“ _The whole world can be our enemy. I don_ _’t care. So long as I’m by your side, that’s all that matters anymore._ ”

Rinoa breathed out a chuckle. “ _You_ _’d… do that for me?_ ”

“ _Why wouldn_ _’t I?_ ”

Gloved hands cupped her face. She hitched her breath. Why couldn’t they stay like this forever?

“ _I never want you to be scared again,_ ” he said. “ _I_ _’m here for you. That’s what knights do, right?_ ”

“ _But_ _…._ ” She licked her lips and closed her eyes. “ _What if you_ _’re not here? What if I have to fight this alone?_ ”

His thumb stroked her cheek. “ _You won_ _’t._ ”

If only it was that easy.

“ _I keep having these dreams,_ ” she told him, “ _that I am supposed to meet you somewhere and I can_ _’t find you. It was… we agreed on the location, but I couldn’t remember. And I always waited and the days passed onto years. So then I left and went searching for you on my own. No matter where I went, I couldn’t find you. The desert, the forest, the ocean, the mountains… you weren’t there. It was like you disappeared. And all I wanted was to find you and…._ ”

“ _Rinoa, it was just a dream._ ”

She cracked a smile and chuckled. “ _That doesn_ _’t make this feeling go away._ ”

“ _What feeling?_ ”

“ _That we_ _’re going to be separated and lose one another._ ”

“ _I won_ _’t let that happen._ ”

“ _But what if it does?_ ” Rinoa cracked her eyes open. “ _How am I supposed to live without you?_ ”

He stepped into her. She held her breath.

“ _You don_ _’t have to. I’m never going to leave your side. And if I do?_ ” Squall drew in a breath. “ _I_ _’ll be here._ ”

A quizzical expression swirled about her. “ _Why?_ ”

“ _I_ _’ll be waiting… here._ ”

“ _For what?_ ”

His forehead bumped into hers. “ _I_ _’ll be waiting for you, so…._ ” His lips brushed over hers. “ _If you come here_ _…._ ”

Rinoa closed her eyes and parted her lips.

“ _You_ _’ll find me,_ ” Squall breathed upon her.

He hitched his breath for one, final word. It never came.

The world froze. Everything—the wind, the distant ocean, his heartbeats—ceased to stir.

Rinoa snapped her eyes open. She wished she hadn’t.

The sky turned a deep grey. Not a flower was in sight. Nor was Squall

“ _You_ _’ll find me._ ”

She spun around and found herself in the freezing device in Esthar. An awful, numbing haze seeped in. No one stood in the pathway—no one approached her.

“ _You_ _’ll find me._ ”

She floated through space, away from the Ragnarok, away from the moon, and away from everything she had ever known.

“ _You_ _’ll find me._ ”

She leaned against a lamp post on an expansive bridge she didn’t know. The ocean comforted her with its constant waves, but offered no companionship.

“ _You_ _’ll find me._ ”

She walked through a silent battlefield. Galbadian soldiers and SeeD cadets alike lied in their own blood. Rinoa clung to her rings and ran.

“ _You_ _’ll find me._ ”

She traversed snow-covered fields and sprawling deserts. Neither held promise of life.

“ _You_ _’ll find me._ ”

She squeezed through thick crowds and ignored the parade’s festivities. For every foreign face she encountered, her heart plummeted further.

“ _You_ _’ll find me._ ”

She dropped to her knees within her room in the Timber Owls’ train. She clawed her head and tried to voice her panicked thoughts. It all dulled to the single echo booming in her head.

“ _You_ _’ll find me._ ”

She curled up in the middle of the dance floor. The music was familiar, as was the dress she wore. She jolted upright with a gasp.

People danced around her as if she was but a ghost. Scrambling to her feet, Rinoa whipped around in search for the one she promised to meet. She moved as fast as her heels allowed for it.

He had to be here. This was where it all started. If he wasn’t there, then—

“ _You_ _’ll find me._ ”

She pivoted on her heels and stared. A figure donning a SeeD uniform stood alone in a corner with his head down.

Her heart skipped. Her lips curled up. Tears swelled in her eyes. Rinoa rushed to meet him.

_I_ _’ve been looking all over for you. Was this where you were the whole time? Why didn’t you tell me? And here I thought it was supposed to be the flower—_

She touched his shoulder. He lifted his head.

The music looped the same measure. The dancers moved in reverse. The room shifted and swayed.

Rinoa reeled back to scream.

Only an empty void stared back at her.

‘ _I promise._ ’

 

* * *

 

A quiet lull loomed over the fields. The occasional wind rustled the flowers, stealing colorful petals in the process. Birds soared by with unique songs.

Rinoa ignored it all.

She sprinted through the patches of green. Sharp breaths rubbed her throat raw. The wind kissed her tear-stained face. Fire seared her taut muscles, yet she persisted.

And she never dared to look back.

The skies burned gold and crimson by the time she struggled uphill. She stumbled and fell, sobbing harder at her failure. Ignoring the fresh scrapes on her exposed knees, Rinoa forced herself up and continued.

At the top sat the massive willow tree, dancing with the wind. Rinoa crashed into it with barely enough time to brace herself. She hung her head, caught her breath, and broke down into hysterical sobs.

_Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up._

Rinoa shuffled to the other side of the tree, back against the bark, and stared to the west. The sun made it’s gradual descent—on the right horizon, at the right time. It wasn’t enough to comfort her; nothing was anymore.

Sliding to the ground, she drew her knees into her chest and buried her face there.

_Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up._

No matter how hard she tried to steady her breaths, her thoughts, and her heart, everything plummeted in a downward spiral. She longed to reach the bottom of that descent, to smash into something— _anything_ —if it meant freeing herself from the dreadful sensation haunting her.

_Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up._

She rocked in place, nails piercing her arms. Her eyes ached from the barrage of tears. The vibrations still teasing her nerves had yet to vanish. Oh, how she loathed the sensation. It bestowed her with nothing but nausea and fear.

Lifting her head up to wipe the streams of tears, she caught a glimpse of the world washed out by the dark blue of twilight. Soon the stars would awaken and decorate the night skies until dawn. Or maybe they wouldn’t. Maybe they were gone forever and the sun would never rise again and the trees and flowers would rot and time would cease to exist like everything else.

_Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake_ _—_

A distant _kweh_ shot through the air. She held her breath. Something rushed through the grass. The pronounced thud garnered Rinoa’s attention; Seifer emerged from around the tree, gasping and whipping about until his sights settled onto her.

“Oh, thank fucking everything,” he said through a heavy sigh. “Are you alright?”

She didn’t answer, too terrified to voice what she needed to ask in return.

Seifer dropped to her level. “You’re not hurt, are you?” He cocked his head and reached for her. “Rinoa, what happened—”

“Don’t touch me!” she yelled, smacking him away.

He reeled back and held up his empty hands. “Please tell me you’re okay. That’s all I—”

“How can you even ask that now?! I’ve been _pretty far_ from fucking okay for a while, Seifer! Or is that just another lie you want to feed me so I’ll shut up?!”

“Rinoa,” he said, his voice dropping to a quiet, yet stern tone, “what are you talking about?”

“You knew, didn’t you?!” She wobbled onto her feet and widened the distance between them. “This whole damn time, you _knew_! Why didn’t you tell me from the beginning?!”

“Tell you _what_ , Rinoa?”

She waved a hand, as if to show him something that was never there to begin with. “All I wanted was to find the others! Zell, Quistis, Irvine, Selphie, Squall…. Maybe they were waiting for us back at Balamb Garden, but _you_ kept on insisting that we go into hiding—”

Seifer rose at a cautious pace. “Rin.”

“But it had nothing to do with our safety, did it?! It was because Balamb Garden wasn’t ever an option! It was destroyed!” Rinoa wrapped her arms around her trembling form. “Did you know?”

The silence was enough of an answer.

“You’re fucking unbelievable,” Rinoa hissed. “You’re nothing but a filthy _liar_!”

“Rin, I—”

“Why didn’t you tell me?!” she shrieked, daring to approach him. “Why did you keep me in the dark again and again and _fucking again_?! What the hell was the point?!” She pounded fists against his broad chest. “You told me we were in this together! I wanted _nothing_ to do with you, but _you_ of all people convinced me. I _wanted_ to believe you. I _wanted_ to trust you! I—” She flailed as his tender arms tried to envelop her. “Don’t! _Stop_! Don’t you _ever_ touch me again!”

“Rin, you need to calm down—”

“Is that all that ever mattered to you?! Did you want me to be some dumb girl who went along with all of your stupid plans so that you could have everything your way?!”

“No, that’s not—”

“Then why didn’t you tell me from the beginning?! Why couldn’t we go to Balamb Garden for help?! You didn’t even _try_ , Seifer! You just wrote it off and went down your own route!”

“I,” he responded, daring to match the intensity of her voice, “was trying to keep us alive. Wherever we went was going to be a game of roulette. I wanted someplace safe, where we could live in peace, even if it was brief.”

“ _We_?!” Rinoa shook her head, dragging anxious fingers through her hair. “I didn’t want any of this with you! I didn’t want you to be my knight; Squall is my knight! He was the only one I cared for—not you! All I wanted was to find him! I was looking for him in time compression and I found you! He could still be out there! Neither of us knows nor will we unless we try!

“He… he could be lost, Seifer. Not that you ever gave a shit about him, but _I_ do.” She turned her back to him and clenched Squall’s griever ring. “I love him. I never got to tell him that. I… I want to find him. We promised each other. And I… keep having these moments where I _swear_ he’s there again and I can’t help but wonder if this is still time compression and I never escaped and _you_ —” She spat that venomous word out. “—showed up instead. I never wanted you; I wanted Squall. And he needs me. I just… I need to wake up and get out of this world I’m stuck in. Everything is wrong. None of this is real. I’m going to wake up any second now, right? This is just a dream—a nightmare, even. It’ll be over soon enough. I need to remember that place… we said he’d meet me there. I know he will. I just need to find it. But you won’t _let me_ even try! Please, for once in your pathetic life, Seifer, can you just _help me_.”

The muted air numbed her until she desired to scream.

“Rinoa,” he breathed out, “I don’t know what I can do to help, anymore.”

“What do you _mean_ anymore?”

“I mean that since this all started, I followed your every word. It might not have made sense, but I wanted you to be happy, so I followed. I couldn’t leave my sorceress behind, after all. But… shit went south so fast… and I got tired of repeating myself and it never did either of us any good and—”

“You _never_ listened to a damn thing I said from the start! You kept talking over me and convincing me to abandon whatever it was I wanted. The world was against us and we needed to hide! Was that the truth?!” The silence carved a dagger through her chest. Rinoa screamed to the stars. “For fuck’s sake, Seifer! What the fuck is going on?! Why won’t you tell me?! What happened to Balamb Garden?! Were the others ever there?! Are they okay?! What is wrong with—”

A warm, yet unsteady hand eased onto her bare shoulder. She held her tongue.

“The very first thing you begged of me,” Seifer murmured more out of anxiety than out of a need for secrecy, “was for us to go to Balamb Garden.”

She shook her head until the world spun. “No… no, that’s not—”

“We went there. They didn’t welcome us with open arms.”

“We _never_ went—”

“It was the first place we went to, Rin.”

Her eyes widened. Her throat cracked dry. Her heart dared to burst free from her chest.

And when she found her voice again, it was but a terrified squeak. “When was… how long? How long has it been? Since then?”

Cautious hands turned her around. The plume of smoke in the distance doubled in size. The agonized screams and charred flesh still echoed within her. But she tried to ignore that; she locked with Seifer’s vivid eyes and found neither peace nor hope.

“Rinoa, it’s been four years.”


	5. Chapter 5

The world reduced to a numb whisper. Her heart ceased to pulse as she held a breath like it was her last. She sought for the twisted humor in his words. Seifer didn’t console her with so much as a smile.

Nothing but silence and stillness.

But it had to be a lie. What he uttered contained no logic. The reality dangled elsewhere, out of reach.

“No,” Rinoa finally murmured, “that’s not true.”

Seifer never wavered, let alone blink.

“That can’t even be possible,” she rattled off. “I… I _remember_ wandering through time compression and finding you. That was a little over a month ago. That—”

“It really doesn’t matter how many times I tell you, does it?”

Her eyes widened. The chuckle he breathed out was dead before it left his lips.

“Every time,” he continued, “you forget.”

She didn’t want to ask. She didn’t want to _know_. All out of fear that the truth would rot her mind and soul to leave a living nightmare behind.

“It all ended four years ago,” Seifer said. “I found you. You were….” The memories alone made him wince. “I thought you were dead, Rinoa.”

She longed to scream and run away. Not a fiber in her being twitched.

“You were bloodied and broken. You could barely talk. I wanted to do whatever would make you comfortable, even if it meant letting you rest in peace, but you begged to go back there. Nothing you said was coherent, but I listened, because you asked.

“To their credit, at least Balamb Garden helped patch you up, but they had ulterior motives. I figured as much. They wanted to turn both of us over to Esthar. I was ready to fight them all to make sure they didn’t lay a finger on you, but you… you….”

Seifer sighed and held his face in his palms momentarily. “I don’t know what you did. Magic, that’s for sure, but not even the fairy tale books could fathom what you did. It was like one second we were there and then… we were outside. And Garden was gone. Like it never existed.

“And you looked to me and begged me to take you to Balamb Garden.”

Nothing but an abyss resided within Rinoa. The ringing returned to her ears. Both her heart and the skies darkened.

“I tried explaining to you what happened, but you didn’t believe me. It was like I wasn’t talking to _you_ anymore—you were someone else. All I could think to do was get out of the spotlight Garden and Esthar flashed on us and wait for the world to leave us alone. But SeeD had contacted Esthar when we arrived; they already knew. No matter where we went, someone recognized us or was suspicious. And every time our lives were threatened, something happened again… something beyond magic… and it saved us, but it took you away in the process, too.

“I stopped explaining after a year. What’s the point in telling a brick wall what it is when it won’t agree with you? The less I explained, the more stable you were. Funny how that works. And I tried to go along with whatever delusions you were convinced was reality. I tried to keep you from losing yourself to your magic. But we were running out of places to hide and the world was ripping itself apart after every instance you blacked out. I… don’t get it. I’m not even sure I _want_ to. I don’t think anyone exists anymore who can comprehend what a sorceress is capable of, but if I had to guess… it’s like you don’t want to exist here. You’re tearing this world apart to get someplace that also doesn’t exist. Kadowaki might have done a good job tending to your physical wounds, but she couldn’t heal your mind. I worried that it was beyond unstable… that it’s actually _still_ dying.”

‘ _You cannot die. Sorceresses are eternal. They only rest soundly when—’_

“Maybe I should have listened to Raijin and Fujin back then.” Seifer flashed a wry smile. “They told me I was digging my own grave the longer I stayed beside you. Maybe I am… but I couldn’t stand the thought of leaving you to die alone. No matter how often I repeated myself, no matter how many times you tried to hurt or kill me for following you, no matter what… I refused to leave. How could I?” He hugged her tight. “I couldn’t abandon you after—”

‘ _I promise.’_

Her eyes snapped wide open. Mustering whatever strength remained, Rinoa shoved Seifer away. He stumbled, taken aback by the abrupt action, only to gaze upon her with anguish.

“I never asked for you!” Rinoa yelled. “I never wanted it to be you! If you want to leave, then _leave_! I’d rather be alone than have to spend another moment sharing the same air as you! Give me time compression, give me a world where only I exist, but _you_?! I promised you _nothing_! We shared a single summer together—that was _it!_ I was dumb and foolish and searching for attention. Maybe I wanted it to be more at one point, because who doesn’t want a summer fling to last forever? But how could I even imagine something more after everything you did…. You dragged me to Adel without a second thought, just to appease _your_ sorceress. The only one who mattered more to you than yourself was Ultimecia!”

“Rinoa—”

“Don’t feed me lies! You were never my knight! Not now, not then, not ever! I know you hated him. I know you two were rivals for whatever reason, but just because he’s not here doesn’t mean you can replace him.”

“What are you—”

“Squall promised to be my knight, even if the whole world was against us, and I promised I would find him in that… in _our_ flower field. He would wait for me. He still _is_ waiting for me. Did we ever go there in our supposed travels? Hmm?! Or did you want to keep me away from him and have me all to your—”

He shook her by the shoulders. His confused eyes searched through her own—for truth, for compassion, for something else… she didn’t know anymore. Not after what he said.

“Who is Squall?”

The question repeated in her hollow mind. Instead of dying off like an echo, it blared with every repetition.

She longed to set the world of fire. She longed to rip every soul apart. She longed to deprive the universe of every ounce of comfort and love until she found the only one who could offer the same to her.

Instead, she matched Seifer’s stare and prayed to wake herself from this nightmare.

“That is the _one_ thing in this fucking hell that I still don’t get,” he said through clenched teeth. “This Squall… who the hell is he? Is this a side effect from almost dying in time compression? Did your mind fill in the blanks and make up shit to keep yourself alive?”

How was she to explain? Where would she even _begin_?

“Every time you come back to me, it’s always _him_. You forget everything that happened and you act like you just walked out of time compression and you’re looking for _him_. Even when the world was hunting us down, even when I stayed by your side, even when you told me to _fucking die_ before teleporting me to the middle of the Galbadia desert… you _always_ find your way back to me and you _always_ asked for _him_.”

_He_ _… promised me. I can’t leave him, not after everything we… after everything—_

“So humor me, Rinoa— _who_ is Squall?”

Seconds passed like years. This was just another hallucination from time compression—another horror to trick her into giving up. It was the only explanation. Why else would fate torment her so?

“Squall?” Rinoa squeaked out, somewhere between fury and delirium. “Squall is my knight. He saved me in Esthar, in space, in Balamb Garden, in Deling City, _all of it_. Our path has been a rocky one, but it kept intertwining together. I thought I hated him at one point, but then I realized I couldn’t spend my life without him.” She gestured to Seifer with her chin. “He gave you that scar. He was a gunblade specialist like you. He became SeeD and you never did. He came to Timber to assist the Owls and myself. He was there at the ball. We watched a shooting star together and danced. We—”

Laughter shot through the twilight sky. Seifer reeled away, head tossed back and lips grinning wildly. He dragged stiff fingers through his hair, walked in a small circle, and faced Rinoa once more.

“This is a joke, yeah?”

She knitted her brows together. “I could be asking you the same thing.”

“You truly don’t remember, do you?” Despite that wide smile, his eyes regarded her in a melancholy light. “Everything we went through. You and I… together… it’s like it never happened.”

“What do you mean?”

“This whole time I hoped you remembered, despite your actions. I blamed it on time compression, on your near-death experience, but now? I don’t even know who you are, anymore. Maybe we’re just two different people who were forced to exist in this shattered world together.”

“Seifer, what are you talking about?” Rinoa enunciated each word, desperate to mask the fear shaking her tongue.

After a breath, he found his voice. “I made SeeD. Fucking aced that test. I invited you to the ball, because you were the only person who actually believed in me. My instructors, my peers… none of them had faith. The cutie I banged every night that one summer? That was the one who supported me. We danced, we laughed, we kissed, all of it. You told me your concerns with Timber that night, too. And I told Cid about it and made sure SeeD took action on something that felt right to do for once.

“You were so happy to see me again. I wish it had been on better terms. I wish that horrible woman didn’t steal me away from the radio tower. I… don’t remember much. There was more dancing and laughing. Fireworks, too. I remember ice piercing you, or I thought it did. I remember searching for you through some dark haze. I lost track of time, where I was… _who_ I was. And I thought I was dying and you loomed over me… and gave me the strength to continue. You smiled. I wanted to smile back. By then you collapsed and didn’t wake up.

“The next thing I remember was floating in space. You were there. We were left to die, both by the sorceress who used us as puppets and the Estharians refusing to extend help. We got back, though; I remember that much. You didn’t _want_ to go back. Esthar wanted to freeze you and imprison me for crimes I had no choice but to believe I committed. But I broke out and saved you. I didn’t care if it put a target on my back. I didn’t care if it meant becoming beyond a SeeD renegade. All I wanted was you. If you were a sorceress now, I wanted to be your knight.

“I promised you that, Rinoa. Even when we agreed to help SeeD and Esthar to fight Ultimecia, because imprisonment or death were our only other options. Even when we stepped into the future and knew there was maybe no way to go back. Even when everyone but us died… I kept fighting for a world I didn’t care for, because I knew _you_ still existed. You… everything was for you. I promise on a million lifetimes it will always be for—”

‘ _I promise.’_

The wind picked up around them. Petals tore free from the willow tree to swirl midair like snow. Her head throbbed. The vibrations tingled down to her cold fingertips.

“And that entire time?” Seifer shook his head. “There was never anyone named Squall. There was never a second gunblade specialist. He didn’t give me this scar; I got this back when I was a dumb kid exploring the rocks on the beach.”

A thick, black fog swallowed the world until all she could find was Seifer. “He… he _promised_ me… we would find each other in that flower field… whenever we were separated, whenever I couldn’t find him, whenever—” She clung to her rings, stroking over the griever band. “He gave this to me, so that even if he wasn’t here, he would be.”

“Rin.”

He dared to move closer. He dared to reach out. He dared to speak once more.

“We made that promise before Esthar and SeeD contacted us for help with Ultimecia. In case shit went south, we would meet up there. And to remind you, _I_ gave you that ring— _my_ ring. I’ve had that since leaving the orphanage. Whoever you think he is, this Squall… it’s in your head, Rinoa. He’s not _real_.”

Every petal froze. Nothing stirred. Not the wind, not the grass, not the clouds.

Her jaw dropped to scream, but the intense ringing increased in volume.

Glass shards replaced the petals. Each tip aimed at Seifer. He tried to speak, tried to move, tried to do _anything_ , but it didn’t matter. Hundreds of shards skewered him and nailed him to the tree.

She never heard his cries.

Blood oozed from the fresh wounds. His shallow breaths wheezed against the shards lodged into his throat. He limped, dangling from his wrists, ankles, and neck. His eyes searched for her and failed. Those feeble lips formed words, all of which were lost to her and the world.

Rinoa approached him. She clutched his chin, jerked him upright, and leaned in to whisper. Seifer’s eyes paralyzed with dread, tears silently falling down his face.

After all he had done, she turned, wiped off the blood flowing from her nose, and walked away into the black fog.

 

* * *

 

Dark clouds coated the sky like a blanket, plummeting the world in a blue haze. The bleak wind nipped at Rinoa’s face—not enough to hinder her.

She whirled around amidst her running in hopes to recognize something. All that spanned to the horizon were storm clouds promising no rain and fields of endless, blooming flowers. Maybe it was familiar, but if it was, then why was she alone?

Slowing to a standstill, she dropped her head and caught her breath. Her heart pulsed against the two rings. She rolled them over until the engraving of a lion stared back at her.

With a sigh, she clung to them and gazed upon the heavens. _You promised to be here. Where are you?_

Was he lost and alone? Could he not find his way out? It had been a struggle for her, too; time compression showed no mercy and unveiled horror after horror to strip her from reality. But they had to be strong. If not that, then the world they knew and loved would cease to exist. Ultimecia would win, despite having crumbled before them.

 _Don_ _’t worry,_ she mused with a final squeeze, _I_ _’ll find you. After everything you’ve done for me, I’ll save you this time. I promise. Just hang in there a little longer, okay?_

Despite the burn in her muscles, Rinoa broke out into a sprint and forced her way ahead. She stopped for nothing. Not the headaches, not the sadistic whispers, not the numbness crawling up her limbs. All that mattered was finding him. She had to—there was no other option.

Salt marked the air. She almost didn’t taste it. Even when the breeze rolled into an icy gale, Rinoa never flinched. _I_ _’ll rest when I’m dead,_ she joked with herself.

Her eyes widened at the sight emerging from the horizon—a stone structure, half destroyed and half reclaimed by nature. Maybe it was an illusion, no different from what time compression subjected her to. But the image didn’t duplicate or bleed into another terror or fade out of view. Even when she reached it and slammed trembling palms upon the building, she convinced herself it was a figment.

Yet it stood before her more real than anything else she had encountered.

Rinoa stepped inside and retraced a forgotten path. Dust and cobwebs covered the interior. The stagnant air welcomed her as she navigated the shadowy space. She bumped into abandoned books and untouched furniture. The world creaked and groaned around her. Still, she sought out the origin of the ocean’s waves crashing in the distance.

And she found more than the shoreline.

How long had it even been? She lost track. But she could never forget those black leathers or that fur collar or that stance leaning in the doorway.

 _You_ _’re the most handsome guy here tonight,_ she said a lifetime ago.

She struggled to breathe life to the name which screamed in her head, fearing it was enough to whisk him away. Clasping her quivering hands together, she licked her lips and spoke.

“Squall?”

He straightened out from his slumped posture and brought his attention to her.

Nothing about him changed. Not his sharp face, his radiant blue eyes, his distinct scar, or his intense stare.

He remembered his name, at least.

“You were waiting for me this whole time, weren’t you?” Rinoa chuckled. “I’m sorry. I did my best to get back here. I thought… I thought I lost you for a second. I didn’t want to believe that. I wanted to think you were still alive and holding out for me. ”

She smoothed anxious hands over her arms—where was her duster? Hadn’t she been clad in a black tank top and shorts instead of the blue, sleeveless empire top and ripped, denim shorts? He’d still recognize her, though; she was still herself. Time compression couldn’t rob Rinoa of her identity.

“But I’m here now,” she continued. “I promise you don’t have to wait anymore. We don’t have to be separated ever again. Oh, Squall.” The tears flowed no matter how hard she fought against them. “I’m _so_ happy to see you.”

She stepped into him. The heat of his body shielded her from the frigid air. She cupped his face and gazed into his eyes as if they were shooting stars. Her lips curled up before she eased into his own.

Nothing but a tender warmth flooded Rinoa. This was real. This wasn’t a dream anymore. They didn’t need to run or find each other ever again. Finally, she obtained a peace of mind that eluded her for far too long.

It all shattered when he shoved her away.

Rinoa stumbled and bumped into the opposite end of the doorway. She caught her breath, regained composure, and stared at Squall. He wiped his mouth and kept his distance. Before his eyes caught onto hers, before he reached for his gunblade, before he parted his lips, every fragment of her soul froze and shattered.

“ _Who are you_?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The theme for this year's Successor Challenge was the number four, marking its fourth year running. My mind immediately jumped to the taboo in Japanese culture revolving around the number four and the meaning behind it—death. In the Major Arcana, the fourth card is The Emperor, which symbolizes authority and structure. When read reversed, it symbolizes domination and lack of control. In regards to love, The Emperor can indicate the terms of an agreement not being met and thus failing to enrich one's soul.
> 
> Final Fantasy VIII lends itself to many dark themes, like death and the illusion of time and control. That coupled with what sparked in my head when thinking of the number four led to multiple questions, like what happens when a sorceress can't properly die and if one dies or almost dies in time compression and if time compression never worked itself out? Within these questions, I eventually found myself asking what would happen if Rinoa found Seifer instead of Squall at the end of the game? And thus this story was born.
> 
> I've been wanting to write a pure horror fic for some time, one which left the reader more horrified of the possibilities of the unknown than concrete, tangible horrors. Final Fantasy VIII seemed to be the perfect world to tell that kind of story in. I was highly influenced by Oxenfree and Twin Peaks: The Return in particular (which if you haven't played/watched and enjoyed this fic, I recommend looking into them). While this story is not for everyone, I wrote it for me first and foremost and I hope others who also occasionally find solace in the darkness enjoyed this. Thank you immensely for reading and thank you to those running the Successor Challenge for this vague, yet immensely vast prompt this year. I would have never have written this without the number four.
> 
> ♥ Runic ♥


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